With Starlight in Their Wake
by Wintermoth
Summary: The goodbyes have been said, the tears have been shed, and now they're ready to keep going. While in London for chips and a visit to Shareen, Rose and the Doctor check into Royal Hope to investigate plasma coils building up around the hospital and end up in the middle of a Judoon inquiry - Season 3 rewrite (featuring 10, Rose, and Martha)
1. Prologue: What Means the Most

**I've been working on this for a few weeks (thank Muse, thanks a lot) and I'm already posting it on Teaspoon and tumblr but I wasn't sure if I'd post this here as, but my roommate thought I should so here we go. **

**Season 3 AU. Exactly what it says on the tin. Enjoy.**

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"Is he treatin' you right, Rose?"

"Yeah, 'course he is."

Rose watched as her former best mate shot a look at the tall, skinny alien currently occupying the corner of her living room. He was leaning against the wall, seemingly engrossed in the newspaper he'd bought when Rose had said she needed to nip by Shareen's, but she knew better. He was listening to every single word, ready to rescue Rose if her friend got too close to the wrong subjects.

"I still don't like him," she muttered, not knowing he could hear. "You disappeared, Rose. A whole year! Not a word to your mum, or to me! And it was 'cos of him, that's what your mum said! And now you've been gone again for near a year! I know you needed to get away because of your mum, but you didn't even call, not even to let me know you were still alive yourself and not dead halfway up some bloody mountain! No emails, no texts, not even any photographs!"

There wouldn't have been any photographs to show. What had been a year for Shareen Costello had only been about two weeks for Rose; two painful weeks of nothing but lying around, sleeping, crying, reading, eating, talking, tea, telly, and more sleeping. No grand adventures, no alien planets, just floating.

For a moment, Rose's throat constricted painfully and she knew the pain was showing on her face but she didn't care.

She'd gotten to say goodbye to them. The Doctor had worked without sleeping for a week, scanning time and space for a remaining crack to get a message through or, better yet, a hole they could step through. They'd found a crack, just one crack, wide enough for a message but no more. He'd used his telepathic abilities to call to her mother and when he was certain the message had gotten through, he set them into orbit around a supernova for power, and she'd gotten to see them. Her mother, Mickey, and the parallel version of her father who could offer Jackie everything this universe couldn't. Everything except her daughter. But, that universe was kind, it seemed, because by the time Jackie had gotten to the bay where the crack came through, she was two months pregnant. Another daughter? A son? Rose would never know. And it hurt, knowing her mum was going to bring a life into existence that Rose would never know anything about it. The three of them had made the Doctor swear to take care of her on the pain of a slap from Jackie, the likes of which she promised he'd be feeling well into his next body.

She hadn't really had a chance to grieve, holding onto the hope in the days before the message that she could get all the way through the void, maybe find a permanent hole they could go through on a regular basis, as silly of a notion as it was. And then within minutes after losing connection, Donna had appeared and Rose had to dry her tears quickly as the ginger bride ranted and raged, wanting to know where the hell she was and how the hell she was there and what the hell had the Doctor done to poor Rose to make her cry like that?

After Donna was gone and Rose had recovered from the strain on the Huon particles that lurked inside her (something she had yet to admit to the Doctor), they'd temporarily retreated into space, and for the first time, Rose truly felt like a vagrant. She had no mum waiting for her in that flat in the Powell Estate. Jackie's words rang through her head. "When I'm dead and buried, you won't have any reason to come back home. What happens then?"

Rose had known when she came back that she would never see her mother again if she stayed with the Doctor, but it hadn't really registered, not when faced with the possibility of living without the Doctor. But all of a sudden, it was there. She was never going to see her mum again.

She'd managed to hold onto her grief as she and the Doctor moved through the flat, sorting through everything, deciding what she would take onto the TARDIS with her, and what would stay behind to be dealt with by the authorities who would eventually come to call.

She held on while they added Jackie Tyler to the list of the dead.

She held on while talking to Shareen, who had been watching the ever growing list of the dead and called her immediately upon seeing Jackie's name. They hadn't even left London yet, so she and the Doctor had swung by, the Doctor only coming because Shareen had a few words for him, making him swear up and down, just as Mickey and Jackie had before, that he wouldn't leave Rose now that she was alone, telling Rose that if he ever did she was welcome to crash at her place until things got sorted.

They stopped to see Sarah Jane who was immensely relieved they were both alive, knowing all along they'd had some part in the swift defeat of the invaders, but not knowing if they'd survived. There was no mention of Jackie. Rose held on through it all.

Only afterwards, when they went into the Time Vortex again, leaving 2007 London and the aftermath behind, did Rose allow the grief to show, and then there was no stopping it. No matter how you looked at it, Rose had lost her mother. She was as good as dead. Mickey was gone. Shareen and her other human friends, well, she'd really left them behind a long time ago. She was alone. Except for the Doctor.

Two weeks floating, doing nothing. He'd practically gone mad with boredom, but he willingly endured the restlessness because Rose needed him. He stayed with her through it all doing anything and everything to help her, whether it was rubbing her back, stroking her hair, or staying as she slept; bringing her tea, singing to her softly, and just holding her. And when the storm of grief had passed, he'd helped her sort the stuff from her flat.

Feeling better after days of living under a dark cloud, Rose had craved something normal. Something reliable and familiar and had decided on chips. The Doctor happily agreed—this body loved chips as much as she did. They landed in 2008, far enough into the future that Canary Wharf wouldn't be hanging over the city like a cloud, but close enough that Rose could swing by and see Shareen, who had phoned a few times to check on her, and now here they sat on the couch together in Shareen's flat, just as they had done dozens of times.

To Rose, those days with Shareen felt like another lifetime.

"Rose," Shareen said softly, holding Rose's hand. Rose looked up.

Shareen's hair was strawberry blonde, long and curly, almost like coils. She straightened it almost every day since she was twelve and her mum let her use her straightener. She had brown eyes that she loves to frame with blue eye shadow, black eyeliner, and a little mascara. She had a mole on the back of her neck that she covered with makeup every time she pulled her hair up, and even sometimes when she didn't. She despised _Bliss_ and loved _Burberry_. She would willingly fork over fifty quid for a tiny bottle of perfume, even if she hated the scent, because she loved collecting perfume bottles, especially the ones with fancy designs on them. She hated fish and only had a mild liking for chips because of Rose, but she loved ice cream and would eat it by the pint if allowed. She preferred coffee over tea any day. She'd admitted to crushes on twenty different boys throughout her adolescence. She was an amazing singer and could write the most beautiful songs, she actually had her A-levels, and she'd been lucky enough to be one of the kids in school that didn't live on a council Estate, but she wasn't unusually brave or smart, she didn't have the spark the Doctor liked in his companions (she'd asked), nothing to help her move on in the music industry. She'd be better off trying to get into a university but she wanted to be a singer and damned if she'd give up.

And how did Rose know all this? Because Shareen had been her best mate since primary school. They'd grown up together, they'd gone through puberty together, they'd skipped school together; they'd had crushes on the same guy, they'd spent hours at night talking, they helped each other with homework, they talked to each other about everything. Or they had, before Rose had gone off with Jimmy Stone. Shareen had seen through him, she'd tried to warn her, and had been hurt when Rose ignored her. But when Rose came back, Shareen was there for her, picking up the broken bits and putting them on right.

But then Rose had met a madman who'd offered her the universe and she'd run into the blue box without looking back. She'd made an effort to contact Shareen to ensure there were no more incidents like last time just in case the Doctor made another piloting error.

Shareen didn't really like the Doctor. She blamed him for exploiting the wanderlust in Rose's soul even though she'd always known of Rose's desire to go places, meet new people, try new things. After all, Jimmy had tried to exploit it, too, with his false promises and poison smiles. (Though Shareen admitted the Doctor, aka John, didn't have the same feel to him that had alerted her to Jimmy Stone.) She blamed the Doctor for stealing away her best friend, for making her forget her friends and family for a whole year, and taking her away again almost immediately after she came back.

"I'm fine, Ree," Rose promised. "Really, I am. John is a good man and a good friend. I'm happy with him."

"I just don't want you to get hurt again, Rose," Shareen whispered. "I know I offered you a place here if you ever need it, but I never, _ever_ want you to have to take me up on that."

"I don't plan to. It's been…" she paused to remember what year it was for Shareen, "…three years and we're not sick of each other yet. He hasn't laid a hand on me or forced me to do anythin' I don't really want to do."

"Hasn't given you a ring, either," Shareen noted.

Rose refused to look over at the Doctor. "I don't care about that, Ree. I've been to a lot of places, places you can't even imagine, seen so many cultures and traditions…really puts things into perspective. A ring is just a ring, doesn't mean anythin'."

Shareen's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "He been feedin' you that?"

Rose shook her head. "No. I figured that out on my own. This," she reached under her shirt and pulled out her TARDIS key, "was the first thing he ever really gave me. I know it's not much, but that was when he promised he wouldn't just dump me and swan off. He's kept his promise. It ain't much, but this key means more to me than any stupid ring ever could."

Shareen actually smiled then, something in her eyes softening, then they flicked over Rose's shoulder and sparked. "Oi! We're havin' a girl talk here, mate. Go back to your paper."

Rose turned her head. The Doctor was staring at her, mouth slightly open in surprise, his eyes wide. At Shareen's words, he closed his mouth, swallowed, and went back to staring at the newspaper. Rose felt a blush creep up her cheeks but she didn't care. He knew how she felt, even if she'd never said it, just as she knew how he felt. They saw it in each other's eyes, felt it in every embrace and holding of hands—in every kiss he'd pressed to her head, cheeks, and recently, her lips.

"Men," Shareen grumbled, pulling Rose's attention back to her friend. She smiled.

Later, when they were about to leave, Shareen grabbed the Doctor by his tie and yanked him down to her level. The Doctor let out an unmanly yelp, trying to pull away, but Shareen held firm. Costello women had a reputation for ferocious tempers that Rose knew from experience could match the Tyler's.

"Listen here, mate," she said. "I don't care if you're goin at it like rabbits or whatever—"

"Ree!"

"—but don't you dare just leave her!"

"I won't," the Doctor said hastily. "I promised you before and I've kept it, haven't I?"

Shareen narrowed her eyes, giving the Time Lord a look full of righteous anger and protectiveness for her friend, causing him to reconsider his earlier assessment about the lack of 'spark' in her. "You do and I don't care if you crawl into the deepest, darkest jungle in Africa, I will come after you and make sure you don't leave it ever again. She deserves more than that."

"I know."

"And I don't care if you are in some deep, darkle jungle in Africa—if Rose ever wants to come back and visit, you better be bookin' a flight right then and there."

The Doctor smiled and gave her a two-fingered salute. "Yes, ma'am."

Shareen leaned forward and whispered one last thing into the Doctor's ear, then stepped away and released his tie.

That night in the TARDIS, which was still parked on Earth, the Doctor leaned against the head of Rose's bed. The owner of the bed was currently sound asleep, curled against his side, while his fingers ran through her soft blonde hair. Shareen Costello's words ran through his mind over and over.

"_She loves you, really loves you, and I think you love her, too. I don't care what it is, but you better give her somethin' better than a key."_

He knew Rose was fond of her TARDIS key, she always wore it around her neck. She had it on now. He'd given her many things during their travels: various trinkets and oddities; clothes and makeup; flowers and food. But out of all of that, she valued that key more than anything else?

Shareen had seen his love for her, and she hadn't ever been around him much. Jackie had seen. Mickey had seen. Pete had seen. Jack had seen. Detective Inspector Bishop had seen. A bloody _Dalek_ had seen. _Everyone_ had seen. He was pretty sure Rose had seen.

He'd loved her when he gave her that key, even if he hadn't realized it yet; he'd loved her. She'd been a bright, golden light that penetrated the darkness in his heart, and he'd been drawn to her like a moth to the flame. He'd given her the key because he trusted her, because he wanted her to know she was special, because he wanted her to know he wasn't going to leave her. What else could he do or say that would top that? What else in the whole bloody universe could ever mean more?

_Shareen Costello, you certainly know how to give a bloke a headache_.

The next day, they ventured out again for more chips. As they were out walking, the Doctor suddenly stopped and stared at a hospital a few blocks away. After a few moments of watching him watch the hospital, she asked what he was staring at.

"I noticed them yesterday," he murmured. "And there's more of them now. Plasma coils, at least a dozen of them, all gathering around that place."

"Well, that's not normal, for starters," he said. "That doesn't just happen. Someone or something is causing them. Oh, look at that…there's more of them! They just keep building and building…"

"So, something's going on in there?"

"Must be…why's it always London?" he murmured, staring at the building intently for a long moment. And then abruptly he was grinning that manic grin that meant things were going to get interesting very soon. "Want to check it out?"

He held out his hand. Well, Rose had wanted normalcy, and when you lived with the Doctor…

She grinned at him, lacing her fingers with his, and that was all the answer he needed.

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**So, what do you think? Good start? Kill it with fire and stake my muse?**

**Review please and let me know :) **


	2. In the Hospital Again

**Dear God I woke up about thirty minutes ago and my inbox had 20+ emails from fanfiction. I popped over to the Traffic stats out of curiosity and, I gotta ask... which one of you is from Hungary? O.o **

**Okay, onto the official bits. Title comes from a quote in _Fires of Pompeii_. The High Priestess says "This one is different. He carries starlight in his wake." Quotes will be taken from all throughout seasons 1-3 so anything you recognize from the show probably is. I don't own Doctor Who or the TARDIS. Trust me. If I owned the TARDIS, I would not be here.**

**The cover was made by by best friend Kazz and chapters picked over for errors by roommate in between sleeping, class, tumblr and general Glee obsessing. (I love you both :D)  
**

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It hadn't occurred to Rose until they were at the desk that the only way to access a hospital thoroughly enough without disguising themselves as doctors was to be patients, or a patient and the patient's husband, because the Doctor couldn't pose as a patient as long as he had two beating hearts. Humanity was a bit wary of aliens at the moment, and anything with two hearts was definitely not of this world, and so far everything from out there had been hostile.

Nope. It was better that Rose be the one in the hospital pyjamas and the Doctor be the concerned husband at her bedside, away from any machines and tools that would give him away. So here she was, filling out registration forms. She came to one of the basic questions…and froze. Her age. It wanted to know her age. Her name was easy. Her birthdate was easy. But her current age was a different matter entirely. Because, in all honestly, Rose Tyler wasn't sure how old she was anymore. Twenty-one, maybe?

It was hard to keep track of time in the TARDIS. After all this time, it didn't seem so important. Not like in the beginning. She'd thought to keep track of the days going by with a calendar, but she had no idea where to start counting from. The day after she'd run into the TARDIS without looking back was a good day to start, but exactly how long ago was that?

She'd tried asking the Doctor but after learning the reason for her curiosity, he'd stared at her in disbelief. "All of time and space…and you want a calendar?"

"Yes, yes, I do!" she'd exclaimed and had managed to get the number of days from him with little more fuss after that, though he tried several times to point out the flaws in her plan.

The second challenge was marking the passage of days. The TARDIS had been helpful then, a clock materializing on Rose's bedside before she had the chance to ask the Doctor.

Oh, it had worked out in the beginning. She was meticulous in her task, always marking a day off every time she went to sleep, which was pretty regular, except when things happened and they were forced to stay on some planet for whatever reason. She'd always asked the Doctor to convert local time for her and he did so, albeit with some annoyance at first, and Rose managed to keep track of the days.

Then they arrived back on the TARDIS after a particularly exhausting few days on a planet where Rose had accidentally insulted a child of a very proud noble family and what followed included exploding fruit, a prison cell, escaping, and a mob of the angry humanoid ferret-like creatures that were indigenous to the planet. Needless to say, Rose had been tired and she'd collapsed into bed without marking off her calendar. It wasn't until a few days later that she realized what she'd done, or rather, _hadn't_ done, and immediately went in search of her Time Lord.

This happened several times over the period of two months and finally one day when Rose asked, he'd sighed with great annoyance, and given her a withering look. It wasn't that it was difficult to calculate things for her, it was child's play, but he really didn't see the point of bothering with something as trivial as a calendar to keep track of time's passing and asked Rose why she thought she needed a calendar. She came up with several reasons that he'd shot down as reasons why she wanted one, not why she needed one. She'd scowled at him, a real Tyler look, one that he didn't fancy being on the receiving end of since he knew a slap was likely to follow, so he gave her real answers.

_To keep track of holidays_. Why? He could just land them there whenever he wanted.

_To keep track of the months._ Again, why? A month was a measure of time that was completely meaningless almost everywhere in the Universe.

_To know when it's my mum's birthday_. Time. Machine.

_So I can know when I turn twenty._ He didn't have a suitable answer for that one. Landing the TARDIS on her birth date wouldn't work–she wouldn't have aged a year. It would just be another day. He'd stared at her for a long minute, debating. It had to be important to her or else she wouldn't have mentioned it and he felt compelled to help her. Already he'd found himself going to ridiculous lengths to keep her happy, his past selves scoffed at this strange desire to please his companion.

Finally, he'd asked the date and promised to let her know when enough relative time had passed. And he had, not long before the Gamestation. While she was asleep, Jack had snuck off and got a cake and some chips, and the Doctor had obliged her request to take her home. They couldn't land on the date of her actual twentieth birthday, as Rose was technically still missing as of then, but Jackie was more than pleased to know he'd bothered keeping track for her.

She was pretty sure a year had passed since then. It certainly _felt_ like a year. But the Doctor hadn't said anything. Maybe he'd forgotten? Or maybe he just didn't want to mention it because it would upset her that she couldn't go home this time. Jackie Tyler was gone, living in a parallel universe with Mickey, and that universe's version of Pete Tyler.

Rose managed to swallow past the sudden lump in her throat and gave her head a small shake, taking a deep breath and letting it out quickly. She'd have to ask him. She could put twenty-one down and be done with it, but she honestly wanted to know.

"Doctor, how old am I?"

The Doctor turned, frowning at her. "What?"

"How old am I? Remember, you promised me you'd let me know when a year had passed."

"I did, didn't I?" he murmured to himself. He leaned back, staring into space for a moment, then sighed. "You're twenty-one," he said at last. "Your birthday was a few weeks ago. Not long after…after Donna."

Not long after saying goodbye to her mum, then. Her 'birthday' must have occurred sometime during the grief that followed. No wonder he hadn't mentioned it.

"Oh," she said.

"I'm sorry I didn't say anything."

"It's fine," she said briskly, scrawling _21_ into the blank.

Only then did the Doctor realize why she'd asked, and he'd chuckled. "Look at the date today, Rose." He gestured to the little flip calendar on the reception desk. She stared for a moment blankly, then realized what he was getting at, gritted her teeth and changed the _21_ to _22_.

Time travel was complicated business.

After returning the clipboard to the receptionist for her since Rose was supposed to be feeling ill, the Doctor returned to the waiting area and went over the list of things she was supposed to be feeling that made her want to check into the hospital. They'd come late in the day, making her problem seem severe enough to keep her overnight, but not enough that she'd need to be closely monitored, giving the Doctor a chance to do some snooping. The nature of her problem had regulated them to a public ward, and that meant no privacy except for the curtain and no telly for entertainment as they waited for night to fall.

A nurse came by to bring Rose a light meal and addressed the Time Lord who was watching his companion with amusement as she regarded the meager food she'd presented with. "Are you planning on staying the night, Mr. Tyler?"

"Just John, please, and yes," he said, smiling at the man.

"Well, we have a lounge and a canteen downstairs if you need food. I can bring you a blanket if you'd like."

"I'll be fine," the Doctor assured him. "Thank you."

The nurse smiled and left them be.

"Cranberry juice," Rose growled in disgust, holding up the plastic container. "Who even likes this?"

"I might. I haven't had a chance to try any in this body." The Doctor looked at the plastic container curiously and held out his hand. "Give it here."

She handed it to him and he tore open the seal, lifting the cup to his mouth. She waited, watching his face as his nose wrinkled ever so slightly. He swallowed, flicking his tongue a few times, and smacking his lips. He looked down at the container and shrugged. "Eh, I've had worse. Better than pears, at least. I don't think that's…ah there, you see?" he turned it and she squinted to read the tiny print. "_Made from concentrate._ Figures. After we're done here, I'm going to take you to a place with proper fruit juice, nothing processed."

"Where's that, then?" she asked.

He grinned. "Earth, of course, a thousand or so years into the past. We'll find a nice pub, or something."

"With your driving, we'll probably end up in the crusades."

"Oi! My driving is not that bad!"

"Twelve months," she reminded him lightly. "1979…1879."

He gave her a look. "Eat your food, Rose," he said before finishing off the cranberry juice.

Rose was tempted to ignore him and the unappealing meal she'd been presented with, but her stomach decided to remind her then that she hadn't had anything to eat today except chips. The Doctor heard and gestured to the tray firmly. Sighing, Rose picked up the spoon from her tray and ate the only appetizing thing on there: applesauce. Around midnight, after the overhead lights had been dimmed for sleeping, her hunger roared back in full force and she glowered at the Doctor who had taken to examining the various tools and bits on the wall behind her to occupy himself. It took a minute or so, but he finally noticed her glare.

"What?"

"You had to say I had stomach pains, didn't you?" she hissed.

"What?" he asked, bemused.

"They think I got something wrong in my stomach. The only thing I've had to eat today is those chips and the applesauce, Doctor."

"Well, you've still got more food here on the…" he trailed off when her glare intensified. "Sorry? Um…" He dug around his jacket pockets. "Let me see if I've got anything…ah, no…nope…paperclips, you don't like paperclips, do you? Didn't think so. Jelly babies? No, you probably wouldn't want those–they've been in here a while. You might actually have stomach problems, then." He moved on to the pockets of the blue suit he'd discovered in the wardrobe the other day and had taken a liking to. "Oh, here, I've got a banana," he offered, producing the piece of fruit.

It didn't look too brown or bruised so Rose accepted it gratefully.

"I'll sneak you something better from the canteen tomorrow when it opens," he promised, standing up. "But for now, you should try to get some sleep. I'm going to go take a look around. Try and figure out why someone's got coils around this hospital."

"What do they do?" Rose asked. "Those plasma coils, I mean."

"Oh, a number of things, really. There's probably something going on in here and now'd be the best time to check it out. Will you be alright?"

Rose swallowed, then smiled, trying to appear normal. "Yeah. Yeah, I'll be fine. Go on. Sooner we figure this out, sooner we can go."

The Doctor gave her a long look before leaning down to kiss her forehead. "I'll be back soon."

As soon as he left, pulling the curtains closed behind him, Rose sagged and tilted her head back to stare at the dark ceiling. She knew he probably hadn't been fooled. No, she was not all right, not even close. She hadn't been able to sleep without him near since Canary Wharf. Before then she'd preferred having him near when she slept, but she didn't panic if she woke up in the middle of the night after a nightmare and he wasn't around.

The old nightmares of her mum being turned into one of the Cybermen had returned after the incident, taking turns with the rest of her nightmares about that day. The pull of the Void becoming too much and sucking her in, or the Doctor being sucked in, because the Doctor's lever had malfunctioned and he'd had to let go of his clamp to set it right. If he hadn't been as strong as he was, she would've lost him to the Void, and she would have been alone and earthbound.

One night, she'd seen Pete (who had returned to their universe for a second, just to make sure Rose was alright and then had left as quickly as he'd arrived) get sucked into the Void before he could teleport away. Sometimes the nightmares mixed. The most common was the Cyber version of her mother appearing, unaffected by the Void, and shoving both her and the Doctor into the Void, or just one of them.

After the first time she woke up without him, screaming so loud he'd heard her on the other side of the TARDIS and found her curled up in the space between her bed and the wall, he took to spending all night with her. Sometimes he'd sit off to the side and tinker with something, sometimes he'd sit silent vigil over her all night, and sometimes they'd both fall asleep in each other's arms.

She'd pretend if any nurses came by to check on her, but she was absolutely certain she wouldn't be getting any sleep until the Doctor was back in the chair next to her. And he probably knew it, too. He'd be worried, distracted, and unable to focus completely on his search. He'd cut it short. He'd be back a lot sooner than he should. She hated being a burden, though he'd deny she was.

Rose closed her eyes and sighed. In the back of her mind, the place where the TARDIS always was, she felt a pulse of comfort. Ever since the Gamestation, even though she couldn't really remember doing things as the Bad Wolf, she had been closer to the TARDIS. Always feeling her, always sensing. The only time she'd lost that connection was on Krop Tor. The Doctor had told her what happened after she looked into the TARDIS, though she got the feeling he'd omitted some parts. He said he'd pulled it all out of her, but she now knew, even if he didn't, that whatever he'd done hadn't worked, not entirely.

In the Torchwood lab, when the Doctor had activated those Huon particles, Donna's entire body had glowed. Rose had heard singing. It was a familiar song, like something she'd dreamed once but had never quite forgotten. It made her feel safe and powerful. It had made her want to curl up on the ground and just listen. It made her want to throw her head back and howl to the universe.

All eyes had been on Donna, then, no one had noticed Rose, until the Empress had both girls fastened up with Lance and activated the particles, trying to draw them out. But they hadn't wanted to leave Rose, and her entire body had rebelled. Donna had noticed, then, when Rose had screamed. Rose's eyes had apparently glowed vibrant gold while the singing echoed soundly in her head and she'd lost consciousness. Apparently her screams and the sight of her unconscious had been enough to rob the Doctor of any mercy he may have been feeling. When she'd woken up later on the TARDIS, Donna had questioned her softly while the Doctor piloted them, and Rose hadn't been able to explain it, not in a way Donna would understand, only asking she didn't tell the Doctor.

Rose opened her eyes again. She'd have to tell him sooner or later. She'd chosen later, if only to avoid putting more stress on him. _Deadly,_ he'd said. They would've killed Donna, they'd forced him to regenerate, but they still existed within Rose.

_"Look, inside your eyes, you've seen it too. The wolf, there is something of the wolf about you." _

The Bad Wolf created herself, a unity between the ancient ship and the young human, both of whom loved the Doctor, to save his life. Was it so hard to believe that neither of them had truly wanted to sever that connection? That it remained: a small link, unnoticeable unless someone played around with Huon particles? It sure explained what the wolf had said, why the words Bad Wolf kept popping up even now (she'd seen them earlier on a flyer on a bulletin board in the lobby), and why Rose could always sense their ship.

Deadly. But they weren't killing her, were they? The Doctor would have noticed by now. They were still there, though. That had to mean something. And now that she knew, now that she was back on her feet, the longer she waited to tell him meant the angrier he'd be.

She'd tell him, she decided, when they'd sorted the hospital out and they were safely in the Time Vortex.

As she'd predicted, the clock registered that not even an hour passed before the curtains rustled and instead of a nurse, she saw the lanky form of her Doctor step through. She opened her eyes immediately and stared at him as he crossed to sit in the chair beside her bed again.

"You're not asleep." He didn't sound surprised.

"Doctor," she whispered, "you can't tell me you searched the entire hospital yet."

"Didn't need to," he said.

"What did you find?"

"Nothing," he said. "I scanned a few places, poked my nose in a few others. There isn't any odd or alien technology–nothing that Earth shouldn't already have, anyway."

"Earth has alien technology? Like what?"

"Oh…microwave ovens," he said matter-of-factly.

Rose blinked, nonplussed. "Seriously?" He nodded. "Microwave ovens were made by aliens?"

"Of course!" the Doctor said. "Using electromagnetic waves to rapidly heat food. Do you really think some stupid ape could come up with something as clever as that?"

"So the bloke who invented it…"

"Yep, alien," he said and then abruptly his demeanor changed. "Or he worked for Torchwood."

And with that, the humor was sucked from the atmosphere. Rose looked away, staring intently at the solid blue curtains surrounding the bed, and the Doctor cleared his throat. "So, ah, whatever the reason for those plasma coils, it isn't an object. Which means it's probably a person."

Silence met his words as they both contemplated what that meant. Rose looked down at her hands. "Doctor. There's hundreds of people here."

"I know."

"Patients and staff."

"I know."

"So…we're just gonna wait until something happens?"

"I'll try to get a look at patient and staff records tomorrow," he said. "Find out if anyone's been admitted recently with unusual symptoms, or any new employees. Might look for zippers on foreheads. …Though from the looks of those coils, I'd say we don't have long."

"Until what?"

"Until something happens, because you can't have that many coils built up without repercussions…unless, of course, someone is causing them to build up on purpose, which also means they should be along soon."

"Fantastic," she grumbled, then yawned loudly. "Ah, sorry."

The Doctor gazed at her, his features soft, and lifted his hand to stroke her hair. "We'll worry about it tomorrow. You sleep now, Rose. I'm not going anywhere."

She smiled at him, shifting around in the bed until she was comfortable, then slipping her hand into his hand while the other continued to brush a gentle, soothing rhythm across her head. He leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple, and after a moment began humming to her softly. The TARDIS pitched in, sending a gentle, comforting hum into the back of Rose's mind. Rose fell asleep to the voice of the man she loved in her ears and the voice of the ship she loved in her head.

* * *

**So please, review! Tell people! If you do I'll give you a whole bag of cookies! Well...half a bag. Well...one cookie. Okay, I don't have any cookies. But if I did, I would give them. ...You know what? Now I want a cookie. Of the chocolate chip variety. WENDY! COME! WE ARE GOING TO GET COOKIES! **


	3. To the Moon

**You guys blew up my email alert thing. It's gone on strike and is now demanding reasonable work hours and wages and admission to a labor union.**

* * *

Rose jerked her hand away from the faucet with a sharp hiss of pain. It'd shocked her. The water faucet had shocked her. She reached forward carefully and prodded the metal nozzle several times but received no more electric shocks.

"Huh," she muttered, biting her tongue. Well, that was certainly odd, and considering why she was even in this hospital to begin with, odd was to be expected. Making a mental note to tell the Doctor, she turned the knob, cupping her hands under the flow. She brought the water up to her face, washing the remains of sleep and the last traces of her makeup.

She considered her reflection. _"You even look like him."_ She did, especially free of the makeup. Her face was a bit narrower, her eyes definitely harder than they'd been when she was a simple shop girl that the last Time Lord had happened across…or even harder than they were just a few weeks ago when she and the Doctor had walked across the Powell Estate, laughing, hand in hand as they went to visit her mum. Rose swallowed, not wanting to go down that track this early in the morning.

Splashing another handful of water onto her face to wash away the beginnings of tears, Rose brushed her teeth with the odd toothbrush the Doctor had produced from one of his pockets, and turned off the faucet.

The Doctor was waiting for her by her bed and his small smile stretched into a full-blown grin when she came into view. Rose couldn't help but smile back. His joy was infectious. She settled back down into bed and allowed him to tuck the covers around her and sat on the edge of her bed, looking every bit the doting, concerned husband he was supposed to be.

"Doctor," she said. "When I was in the bathroom, the sink shocked me."

"Why?" he asked, only half-serious. "Did they change the way sinks look, or something?"

She rolled her eyes. "No, I mean it _literally_ shocked me."

His face grew serious. "Like static electricity, only sharper?"

"Yeah."

He inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. He turned his gaze to the windows and Rose did the same. There was nothing out there except the London skyline. He seemed to be waiting for something. Without warning, a jagged line of light flashed outside the window, and vanished.

"There, did you see?" he asked.

"Yeah, what was that? Lightning?"

"_That_," he said as another one flashed, "is a plasma coil. They're getting so thick that even you lot can see them now. I need to go have a look at those records now—will you be—"

He was interrupted by the arrival of a man in a suit with an entourage of young adults in white coats. Medical students, Rose wagered. Smart, equipped with A-levels, bright and promising futures ahead of them—staring at her with calculating eyes, ready to figure out what was wrong with her to impress their superior.

The Doctor squeezed Roses hand reassuringly and then plastered on a big grin. "Good morning," he crowed to the crowd.

Rose simply smiled.

"Good morning to you both," the man said. Rose recognized him as Mr. Stoker, one of the doctors who'd popped by yesterday. "Now then, how are you feeling, Mrs. Tyler?"

She tilted her head to the side a bit. "Well, I've been better."

"Rose Tyler, admitted yesterday with severe abdominal pains. Jones," he said to the young black woman beside him. "Why don't you see what you can find? Amaze me."

Jones nodded, walking around the bed and pulling a stethoscope from her pocket. "Stomach pains? Then eating chips wasn't very clever, was it?" she asked Rose.

Rose blinked. "What?"

"On Chancellor's Street this morning. You walked up to me eating chips and offered me one."

Rose gawked at her and the Doctor chuckled lightly. "Rose, did you nip out for chips this morning? I could've sworn you said you were going to the loo."

"I did, I mean, I went to the loo, but I didn't leave the building." Rose was frowning now.

"Well, that's weird," Jones frowned, "because it looked like you. Have you got a sister?"

Rose couldn't help but flinch at that. For all she knew, she could have a little sister by now. But if the child Jackie had been carrying was a girl, she'd never know. "N-no," Rose said. "No. It's just me. Just _us_," she corrected, meeting the Doctor's gaze and hating the regret in his eyes. He blamed himself.

"As time passes and I grow ever more infirm and weary, Miss Jones," Mr. Stoker interrupted.

"Sorry. Right." She brandished her stethoscope. Rose inhaled and exhaled slowly while Jones moved the stethoscope around her chest and stomach.

"I weep for future generations. Are you having trouble locating the heart, Miss Jones?" Rose shot a glare at the older man.

"I was listening to her breathing, too," Jones explained, drawing back. "Her heart rate is normal and her lungs sound clear."

"The problem is not in her lungs," Mr. Stoker said impatiently.

"Um…she could be pregnant?"

"I'm not, trust me." Rose said, not looking at the Doctor.

"And you rather failed basic techniques by not consulting first with the patient's chart." Mr. Stoker informed Jones and bent to pick up the clipboard at the end of Rose's bed. Her ears heard a faint crackle, like a static shock, and he immediately dropped it.

"That happened to me this morning," Jones said.

"I had the same thing on the door handle," a male student added.

"And me, on the lift," piped a dark-haired woman.

Rose and the Doctor looked at each other as Mr. Stoker went on about how it was to be expected because of a thunderstorm. They knew better.

"—lightning is a form of static electricity, as was first proven by…anyone?" Mr. Stoker looked at his students with hopeful expectancy. But the answer didn't come from one of the medical students.

"Benjamin Franklin," the Doctor said matter-of-factly.

Mr. Stoker looked mildly impressed. "Correct—"

But the Doctor was already going. "My mate Ben, that was a day and a half. Did I ever tell you about that, Rose? I got rope burns off that kite, and then I got soaked…"

They were staring at him. "Quite…" Mr. Stoker said slowly.

Rose elbowed him sharply, willing him to shut up before they decided he was the one that should be in a hospital bed. But the Doctor didn't seem to realize anything was off. "…And then I got electrocuted!" he finished with a broad grin.

This time Rose smacked his arm. He leaned away, looking like a kicked puppy. "Sorry," she apologized to the perplexed crowd around the bed. "He thinks he's funny."

"I am funny!" he protested. "Just ask Abbott and Costello. Now that—_that_ was a day."

"You're a menace, you are." Rose shook her head.

"And you stayed with me anyway."

"I must be mad," she said, but she was grinning and he was too, and just like that the Doctor's comment turned from worrisome to just a young couple's banter.

Mr. Stoker smiled. "Someone will be along later to talk with you further. Moving on!" He motioned for the students to follow.

Miss Jones turned back to look at them with a small smile on her face. The couple smiled back. The moment she turned away, though, Rose smacked the Doctor's arm again.

"Hey!" he protested, leaning away, looking every bit like a kicked puppy.

"You _stupid_ alien git!" Rose hissed. "I thought the whole point of me playing patient was so you didn't have to get in a hospital bed. Keep talkin' like that and they'll think you're mad!"

"Oh, don't worry about me." He waved off her concerns. "I've been in a psychiatric ward before. Got out just fine."

Rose stared at him, her mouth open in shock. "Do you mean to say," she said after a moment, "that you escaped from the madhouse?"

"Yeah."

Her grin widened and her tongue poked out between her teeth. "Oh, that makes so much sense."

He realized what she was getting at and managed to look affronted despite the grin threatening to show. "Oi!" But she was laughing, and it was infectious.

The crowd of medical students passed them again on their way out. Some of them, like Jones, smiled at the sight of the happy young couple that seemed oblivious to the world around them. Some of them frowned, wondering why someone who was supposed to be sick and in pain was laughing like that.

When the students and Mr. Stoker were gone, the Doctor sobered. "I better get moving. Those plasma coils are getting thicker…and if people are starting to get shocked then we're running out of time. Don't leave this room unless you absolutely have to, Rose."

"Okay," she said, stretching up to kiss his cheek. "Be careful."

"I'm always careful," he said.

"Oh, God," she muttered. "Hey, don't forget, you're supposed to swipe somethin' from the canteen for me."

"Yes, ma'am," he said, sliding off the bed, and left the ward quickly.

Rose sighed, leaning back in the bed again. She hated just sitting around not doing anything. She'd rather be with the Doctor so she could at least keep him out of trouble or point out the things he missed. Like the bloody London Eye.

Overhead, thunder began to rumble ominously. Rose couldn't help but shiver. _"A storm is coming. " He'd_ said.

Rose was brought a light meal of applesauce and orange juice and she ate it slowly, savoring each bite, watching the rain trickle down the glass of the windows. Lightning flashed. But it wasn't really lightning. So was that thunder not thunder? And what about the rain? She couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong with the storm. Something was really, really wrong.

_**Fear**_ flared in the back of Rose's mind where the TARDIS was. The juice slipped from Rose's fingers and fell to the floor with a splash, but she hardly noticed. The TARDIS was afraid; she was trying to warn them. Something was wrong. Something was really, really wrong.

The Doctor. Where was he? If Rose could feel it, he definitely could.

A nurse came over to see if everything was all right and noticed Rose, pale and shaking, in her bed.

"Are you okay, miss?" she asked.

Rose looked at her with wide, terrified eyes. "I…"

The nurse called for one of her colleagues by the window but none of them responded. They were all staring outside at the rain and after a second, Rose realized why. She pushed the covers away and slid out of bed and walked slowly towards the windows.

"Miss—" the nurse tried again, putting her hand on Rose's shoulder.

"Oh, my God," Rose murmured, staring outside.

The rain was going up.

Beside her, the nurse gasped.

_She saw her face and the Doctor's, and a voice cried out in a language without words and there was fear—_

Light flared outside the window, blinding and white, and then the whole world shook like a violent earthquake had struck. Rose lost her balance and fell to the floor with a scream. The lights flickered and things fell and people screamed and glass shattered as it hit the floor and Rose tried to get to her feet but was knocked over straight away and tossed around like a doll and she couldn't tell which way was up and which way was down and the TARDIS's fear in her mind faded and _it's Krop Tor all over again and where is the Doctor—_

And then it stopped.

Everything was silent for a moment, except for the sobs and gasps as people tried to breathe. Rose did a quick check—all limbs intact, no broken bones, but she was going to have some serious bruises later—then pushed herself up. She wobbled for a second, but managed to stay upright, and then looked out the window. Night. It was nighttime but it couldn't be because it was lunch time not sixty seconds ago, unless they were pulled through time, but how could you pull a whole building through time?

Extreme distance, time differences, and the Beast were the only reasons she'd ever lost connection to the TARDIS, and she was fairly sure the Beast was gone. So time or space. Brilliant.

A doctor near the window pulled himself up and stared out. "We're…oh my God…we're…." He said quietly, but his voice carried in the near silence that became complete at his words. Others near the window looked, Rose took a step forward, and all eyes saw the gray, rocky expanse where there should be London, and above them—empty space.

Somewhere in another ward, a woman let out a high-pitched scream of terror and all hell broke loose. People screamed and cried and ran. Some curled up on the floor, sobbing hysterically. Panic and chaos and the air stank with fear. Rose stood silent through the panic, staring out the window. She knew that landscape. She'd seen it before from the safety of the TARDIS.

"ROSE!"

The Doctor's voice sent a jolt through her system and she turned to see a skinny streak of blue tearing across the room before she was crushed against the chest of a terrified Time Lord, whose double hearts beat rapidly against her own. He held her for a moment, gasping in relief.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice muffled by her hair.

"We're on the moon!" she gasped.

"I got that. Are _you_ alright?" He pulled back to stare at her, running his hands across her face and arms to check for damage.

"A bit bruised, but I've had worse," she said. "I'll be fine, don't worry." His shoulders sagged in relief at her words and the fear in his eyes dimmed, replaced by seriousness. "I can't feel the TARDIS."

"I know," he said, looking around, and ushered her towards her bed. "Me neither. Get dressed, we need to get a look at what's going on." His gaze swept up and down her body. "Unless you want to run in that."

"All right!" a woman said loudly. "Everyone back to bed!" It was the medical student, Jones, who was surprisingly calm in contrast to the dark-haired woman with her, who looked ready to lose it. "We've got an emergency but we'll sort it out."

The Doctor pulled the curtains closed around them and Rose was already pulling the gown off. "Before that light, the rain was going up. What was that?"

"H2O scoop. That's how they got us up here. And it explains the plasma coils." He handed Rose her clothes, a pair of jeans and a light green t-shirt, keeping his eyes averted out of politeness, though it didn't matter to her at this point. From outside the curtains they could hear Jones talking.

"If the air was going to get sucked out it would have happened straight away, but it didn't. So how come?"

Rose was still pulling on her trainers when the Doctor pushed the curtains aside. "Very good point!" he declared. "Brilliant, in fact. What was your name?"

"Martha."

"And it was Jones, wasn't it?"

Martha Jones nodded.

"Well then, Martha Jones, the question is, how are we still breathing?"

Rose slid off the bed, straightening her shirt, and moved towards them as the other woman, growing ever more hysterical, exclaimed that they couldn't be.

"Obviously we are so don't waste my time," the Doctor snapped.

"Doctor." Rose gave him a sharp look and put her hands on the woman's shoulders. "Hey, hey look at me. It's gonna be alright." The woman's tearing eyes met hers. "What's your name?"

"Julia Swales," she sobbed.

"Alright then, Julia. My name's Rose. Don't worry; this is nothin' too bad. We've been through worse, me an' him." She jerked her head in the general direction of the Doctor who was talking to Martha. "We'll get this sorted. Just stay calm. You're a doctor, yeah?"

"In training."

"Well, aren't doctors supposed to be brave? Aren't they're supposed to keep their heads in a crisis? Look around, Julia. Julia! Stop crying and look around. See all these people? They're your patients. You've got to take care of them. Do you understand? You got to. I know you're scared, I know, and you've got a right to be. I'm a bit scared, too, but you gotta take care of these people. If you don't, who will?"

Julia looked like she wanted to keep crying, but Rose's words must have gotten through to her because she nodded, squaring her shoulders. "Right…right…" she nodded but her eyes flicked to the window again and her lips trembled.

"Just don't look if it helps," Rose encouraged.

"Rose," the Doctor said. "We're goin' out."

Rose turned, letting her hands drop. "Out? Outside? Can we?"

"I don't know." He grinned. "But it's worth a shot. Might give us a clue."

"Alright," she said.

"Not her, though. She'd hold us up."

Rose didn't argue, but turned back to Julia and gave her an encouraging look and put her hand on Julia's shoulder once more. "Be a doctor," she whispered.

Julia nodded, trembling. Rose gave her the best smile she could then bolted after the Doctor and Martha. The hallways were packed with people moving every which way or huddled against the wall. Rose and the Doctor weaved through with ease and Martha followed through the narrow paths they found.

"I'm Rose." Rose smiled at the other woman, holding out her hand. "Nice to meet you, Martha."

Martha smiled at Rose incredulously and shook her hand. "Likewise, but is this the time?"

"You get used to this sort of stuff when you're friends with him." She gestured with her thumb at the Doctor.

"Friends? But—"

"Here we are!" The Doctor pointed to a sign that read 'Patients Lounge' and stopped in front of a pair of double doors just down from the lounge. "Shall we?"

Rose grinned, her tongue poking out, and together they pushed the doors open and the three of them stepped onto the balcony. It was a bit colder, but not like standing in the open doorway of the TARDIS while they were in space. But they definitely were in space. Any doubts she may have had before were completely erased as she gazed at her planet in the sky, hundreds of thousands of miles away. She inhaled deeply and was pleased to discover that air filled her lungs.

"We've got air!" Martha gasped in wonder as they walked forward. "How does that work?"

"Just be glad it does," the Doctor said seriously.

"Doctor," Rose said quietly. "She was afraid. I felt her fear, just before we…"

"I know. I felt it, too," he murmured.

"I can feel her now, sort of. But it's…faint. We've been farther than this before, haven't we?"

He nodded. "Something's restricting the telepathic link."

"I've got a party tonight." Martha Jones said, interrupting their quiet conversation. They watched her struggling to take in the enormity of what was in front of her. She looked at them. "It's my brother's twenty-first. My mother's going to be really…really…" Her voice broke at the end and she shook her head quickly.

"Are you okay?" the Doctor asked gently.

"Yeah."

"Sure?"

"Yeah."

"Want to go back in? We'll be okay if you—"

"No way," Martha interrupted. "I mean, we could die any minute, but all at the same time…it's beautiful. How many people want to go to the moon? And here we are!"

Rose looked up at the Doctor and smiled. The Doctor's face softened and he slipped is hand into hers. "Here we are," he agreed.

"Almost prettier than Woman Wept," Rose said, turning her gaze to the horizon again. "It's…so small. I mean, I know it's small in the grand scheme…but lookin' at it like this…on the moon!"

"Standing in the earthlight," he murmured.

"You two are a bit comfortable with this. What do you think happened?" Martha asked them.

The Doctor smiled. "What do you think?" Testing her, Rose realized, to see if she was worth keeping around.

Martha considered for a second. "Extraterrestrial," she decided. "It's got to be. I don't know, a few years ago that would've sounded mad, but these days?" she laughed once without humor. "That spaceship flying into Big Ben, Christmas… those… Cybermen things." She paused for a moment. "I had a cousin. Adeola. She worked at Canary Wharf. She never came home."

If she'd been looking, she would've seen Rose flinch as if she'd been struck and the Doctor's expression darken.

"I thought you looked familiar," he murmured.

Martha turned. "What?" she asked quietly.

"Your cousin looked like you, didn't she?"

"What—I mean—how…? Yeah, she did."

The Doctor nodded. "I'm sorry. We were there. In the battle. She was…it was…" he trailed off, unable to find the right words. How could he tell her the that her cousin never came home was because she had been controlled by the Cybermen and was partially responsible for bringing the army into this reality?

"I lost my mum." Rose's voice shook, and the Doctor squeezed her hand comfortingly.

"I'm sorry," Martha said quietly, then swallowed and steeled herself for what had to be done. She was a doctor, they were her patients—like Rose had told Julia—it was her job to keep a level head and to make everything better, even though she didn't have a clue what to do. "I promise you, Mr. and Mrs. Tyler, we will find a way out. If we can travel to the moon, then we can travel back. There's got to be the way."

"It's not Tyler," the Doctor said, pulling away from Rose to look over the sides of the balcony. "That's not my real name."

"Who are you, then?"

"I'm the Doctor," he said. He crossed to the other side and looked over the edge.

"Me too." Martha laughed. "If I can pass my exams. What is it, then, Doctor Tyler?"

"Just the Doctor."

She made a face. "How do you mean, just the Doctor?"

"Just…the Doctor." He said as if he couldn't see the problem with it.

"What, people call you 'the Doctor'?"

"I just call him Doctor," Rose offered.

"Well, I'm not," Martha said stubbornly. "As far as I'm concerned, you've got to earn that title. And what about you? Is your real name 'the Rose'?"

"No." Rose grinned. "It's just Rose."

"Right, let's have a look." The Doctor leaned down and picked up a pebble then lobbed out into space. "There must be some kind of—" the rock collided with an invisible wall that rippled from the force but remained intact "—force field. Keeping the air in."

They were silent for a moment as they considered this. Rose's blood felt cold. The force field was keeping the air in, protecting them from the vacuum of space. It had to be impenetrable or else the air would escape. But even if she and the Doctor could break through it, they had nowhere to go. There was nothing outside the force field for them. No TARDIS waiting to whisk them to safety. Whatever the fate awaited the people in this place, it was theirs as well.

"Doctor," Rose said quietly as something else dawned on her. "Force fields, they don't create air, do they?"

"No."

"And there's no atmosphere here. Nowhere to get more air from."

"No."

"So…what happens when we run out?"

The Doctor looked at her then, eyes ancient and sad, but with a hint of anger beneath the surface. Without breaking Rose's gaze he asked, "Martha, how many people in this hospital?"

"I don't know. A thousand?"

The Doctor swallowed. "One thousand people. Suffocating. That's what happens."

Rose put her hands over her mouth and closed her eyes. "Oh, God." She sucked in a breath of air sharply. "We're gonna sort this, right, Doctor?"

As the words left her mouth, something rumbled overhead, and Rose recognized the sound of approaching spaceships. Heads snapped up and eyes took in the massive cylindrical ship that passed over the hospital, followed by two identical ones that completely dwarfed the hospital. The Doctor's hand found hers again and squeezed so tightly that Rose could feel the dual pulse thrumming in his veins. Three legs extended from the lower sides of each ship, bending into sturdy legs as they descended. There was something familiar about the ships, Rose realized. She'd seen them before somewhere. A picture maybe?

From inside came the sounds of humans panicking, but the three on the balcony didn't look away from the ships. A hatch dropped down from the bottom of each and out marched a single figure in black, followed by rows of two, each wearing the same outfit, and marching in time. And behind the column, another emerged, identical in shape and size. Rose tried to count and gave up seconds later. There had to be at least two hundred of the hulking black creatures marching towards the hospital, which suddenly felt thin and weak under her feet.

"Aliens," Martha exclaimed. "That's aliens." Rose looked at her and the medical student met her gaze with fear. "Real, proper aliens."

"Judoon." The Doctor said darkly.

Rose's eyes widened and she looked up at him, realizing now why the ships were familiar. It was months ago, the Doctor had landed them on a thriving moon that was famous for its vast collection of every form of art. She'd stepped from the TARDIS, only to be immediately pulled back in by the Doctor. "Oh we're definitely in the wrong time," he'd said, slamming the doors shut, not before she'd glimpsed a gigantic cylindrical ship sitting on a hill in the distance, a menacing presence looming over the city. It had taken a bit of persuading, but she'd finally managed to wheedle out the name of the aliens who used those types of ships.

Judoon. Humanoid rhinos with heads as thick as their skin, intelligent, but daft, and with more than enough muscles. Mercenaries. What did they want with a British hospital?

"Inside," the Doctor barked, pulling her towards the doors. "Now."

"Do you think we can help them?" Rose asked.

"It depends on what they're here for. I'm not going to just waltz up to them if there's a risk they might consider me a target. Martha, where's the closest staircase? We need to get down there and see what it is they want."

"This way, follow me," Martha said and darted through the doors ahead of them. The medical student wasn't wearing the proper shoes for running, nor was she accustomed to the pace the two time travelers set, and they had to slow down to avoid overtaking her. When they reached the staircase, the Doctor took the lead, Rose just behind him, and Martha trailing along in their wake.

"Blimey, you two are fast," she huffed.

"Like I said, you get used to this sort of thing when you're friends with him," Rose said. From below came fresh screams of terror, which meant the Judoon must already be inside.

"Go out that door there," Martha instructed, referring to the door below them where screams were coming from. "There's a balcony overlooking the first floor lobby."

The Doctor pushed the door open and ducked down low as he crept out onto the mezzanine. The two women followed him, Martha easing the door shut, and took in the scene below from behind the cover of potted plants. The Judoon in their full armor, save for one with his mask off revealing an ugly rhino-like face, were moving from person to person, holding their heads and shining a blue light at their faces. Amidst the cries of fear and the beeping of the scanners, gruff voices proclaimed "human" over and over.

The Doctor's attention, however, was on a little stand in the corner. "Oh, look down there, Rose. They've got a little shop. I like a little shop. Remember the hospital on New Earth? They didn't have a shop."

"No," Rose muttered. "Just mad scientist cat nuns and a bitchy trampoline."

"What are you two on about?" Martha looked at them like they'd sprouted extra heads. "Oh, never mind now. What are Judoon?"

"Galactic police. Well, police for hire," the Doctor said, his tone displaying no fondness for them. "More like interplanetary thugs."

"And they brought us to the moon?"

"Neutral territory." The Doctor explained. "According to galactic law, they've got no jurisdiction over the Earth, and they isolated us. That rain and lightning? That was them, using an H2O scoop."

"What are you on about 'galactic law'? And 'New Earth'?" she asked. "Where'd you get that from?"

The Doctor didn't answer. He stepped out from behind the plants, crouching down behind the glass under the railing to get a better look below. Rose followed him but kept her eyes on Martha. They'd have to tell her soon, she was already getting suspicious. She'd displayed a level head about aliens before now, but how would she react to finding out that one of the two people she'd allied herself with was an alien and both of them were time and space travellers?

"Human." The Judoon continued their scans on the people below. "Human."

"Human, human," Rose muttered. "What else are they expecting to find in an Earth hospital?"

"Something…non-human," the Doctor murmured, glancing at her. "They're cataloguing everyone by species, so they're after something that's not human."

"An alien?" Martha asked. "An alien here? What, disguised as a patient? Are you serious? Are you sure we're not just…trespassing on the moon or something?"

The Doctor looked at her, impressed with the young woman's reasoning the same way he had been with Rose's so long ago in that elevator at Henrick's. "No, but I like that. Good thinking. But no, like I said, this is neutral territory. They're cataloging, and definitely after something non-human."

"So, we'll just have to avoid them," Rose said simply even though it probably wouldn't be. There were hundreds of those things, and they'd be swarming the hospital soon if they weren't already.

"Why?" Martha asked. He looked at her. Martha blinked. "Oh, you're kidding me." The Doctor arched one eyebrow and Rose felt a smile threatening to appear at the amused disbelief on the other woman's face. "Don't be ridiculous."

Rose licked her lips and pressed them together, trying not to laugh. She'd accepted it straight off, so had Donna. Briefly she wondered how the companions before her had reacted. How Sarah Jane had reacted.

The smile faded from Martha's face as she realized he wasn't kidding. "Stop looking at me like that."

"Come on then," he said seriously, taking Rose by the hand. "I never did get a chance to look at those records earlier."

Martha followed them up another few flights of stairs and through the halls. She had nowhere else to go and she was curious about everything, including them. They didn't look alien or sound alien, they were speaking clear English and they sounded like Londoners. But the Judoon were speaking English, too, so that wasn't worth anything. Whatever they were, they were close. They'd admitted her into the hospital under the guise of husband and wife and, looking at them earlier, it had been easy to believe. But Rose had said twice that they were friends, and nothing but the way the Doctor seemed to refuse to let go of her hand and the way they reacted and responded to each other, hinted at anything more. She would ask them later, she decided, if they survived. After all, when else was she going to have a chance to actually talk to a pair of nice aliens?

And dear God, did she hope they were nice and not just playing innocent. It'd be just her luck to end up bundled with them if they were the things those rhinos were after.

The Doctor stopped outside an office and carefully opened the door, peering in. once he was sure the room was empty, he pushed the door open all the way. "I'm going to get to work. Martha, go back to the stairs and keep an eye on them. Rose, stand outside and make sure no one comes in here."

Rose nodded. "Come on."

Martha followed Rose out of the room. The blonde woman leaned against the wall by the door with the same air of confidence that the Doctor radiated, a kind that could only come from experience. Whatever was going on, it was nothing new to them. But for all Martha knew, aliens lived like this all the time, at odds with one another. There certainly seemed to be no shortage of them ready to take over her planet.

Rose watched Martha carefully. The medical student seemed to be considering something and she wasn't heading towards the stairs like she should be.

"Go on," Rose said. "Whatever it is, you can ask. I was like you once."

Martha swallowed. "Okay. Um…you're…both…aliens?"

Rose shook her head immediately at the familiar question. "No. I'm human. That's why I was in the hospital bed and not him."

"He looks human, though, and sounds human," she pointed out. "How do you know he's really an alien?"

Rose arched her eyebrows, unimpressed. "You're supposed to be watching the stairs. Shift."

Martha frowned at her tone and something else that should've been obvious occurred to her. "You're not even really sick, are you?"

Rose only smiled.

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**Review! :)**


	4. Rhinos and Vampires

**Here's another chapter for you guys. I'm glad you're all loving it so far ^_^**

**My roommate is currently sobbing fangirl tears over there...I'm a little concerned. Not about this (not yet XD) but something. Hmm. So far my attempts at getting an answer have been met with a wordless grrraaaaaawwwwrrrraaaaaah... ****Oh well, here's the chapter while I coax the answer out of her.**

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Light, rapid footsteps caught Rose's attention and she saw Martha hurrying towards her. The black woman motioned towards the door. "Quick, inside!"

Rose stepped backwards into the door, shoving it open with her shoulder, and turned around. The Doctor was at work examining a computer with the sonic screwdriver. She stepped over a fallen chair and leaned forward to peer over his shoulder. Windows flicked across the screen rapidly but from what she could tell there was nothing on them.

Martha entered the room behind her. "They've reached the third floor," she informed him. They didn't have long, then. She noticed the screwdriver. "What's that thing?"

"Sonic screwdriver," the Doctor said absently.

"Well, if you're not going to answer me properly."

He stopped scanning for a moment and turned. "No, really, it is. It's a screwdriver, and it's sonic." He held it up for her to see. "Look."

The Doctor went back to scanning and Martha laughed. "What else have you got? A laser spanner?" she asked sarcastically.

"I did," he said matter-of-factly. "But it was stolen by Emily Pankhurst, cheeky woman."

Rose blinked. "Emily Pankhurst? When was this?"

"Two regenerations ago. I helped chain her to 10 Downing Street." He stopped scanning and whacked the screen. "Oh, this computer! The Judoon must have locked it down. Judoon platoon upon the moon." He muttered to himself as rubbed his chin, his shoulders stiff with frustration. Rose put her hand on his shoulder and felt the muscles relax beneath her touch.

"Why does it always have to be London?" he complained. "Cause we were just here for chips and to visit her friend, I swear, Martha. We weren't looking for trouble, honestly—but that's never helped us before, eh Rose?" He ran his hand through his hair agitatedly, mussing it up even more than it already was. "But I noticed these plasma coils around the hospital, and that lightning, that's plasma coils, they've been building up for two days now, so we checked in to check it out. I thought maybe there was something in here that shouldn't be, something causing them. Turns out the plasma coils were the Judoon up above."

He leaned forward and began to type and Rose put her hand on his shoulder again. They'd barely started and he was already getting too close to the line he always toed in this body. The line he dared not cross but loved to test. He came closest to stepping over in matters regarding her, specifically her safety. Right now, she was as safe as anyone else in the hospital, trapped on the moon with a limited oxygen supply.

"You said they were after an alien? But how could there be an alien here? Someone would've noticed, right?" Martha asked.

"Not if it looks human and there are a lot of species that resemble your kind, Martha Jones."

She folded her arms. "Like you. Apparently."

"Like me. But not me." He promised. "Not Rose, either. She's human."

"But—and I'm not saying I believe you—but I don't see why you'd be in danger. Don't they have a photo?"

"Might be a shape-changer."

"Whatever it is, can't you just leave the Judoon to find it?"

Rose took a step away from the Doctor, looking at the door. A single patient ran by, evidently in a panic, followed by a nurse. A fresh wave of terrified screaming from floors below reached their ears, probably a new group of humans being scanned by the Judoon. "She's got a point, there, Doctor. Maybe we should go up to the roof and wait instead of mucking about down here."

He shook his head immeditaly. "If they can't find who they're looking for then they'll declare the hospital guilty of harboring a fugitive and it'll be sentenced to execution."

"All of us?" Martha's eyes widened. "But we haven't done anything!"

"You don't have the time to prove that and they probably would even listen—OH!" He exclaimed angrily, smacking the computer and pushing himself away, causing the two women to jump back in alarm. "Do you see? They're thick! Judoon are thick! They are completely thick! They wiped the records! Oh, that's clever." His hands went to his hair again.

"Doctor, what are we looking for?" Rose asked.

"I don't know!" He said through his teeth. "Any patient admitted in the past week with unusual symptoms."

"Like severe abdominal pains?" Martha muttered but the Doctor didn't seem to hear her, grabbing the computer screen and muttering something about a backup drive. "Just keep working. I'll go ask Mr. Stoker, he might know."

The Doctor didn't even acknowledge her. He turned the screen around, peering at the sides and the back. He picked up his sonic screwdriver and aimed it at the screen, tongue clamped between his teeth.

Martha looked at Rose who nodded. "Hurry."

Not a minute after she left, the Doctor let out an excited shout. "Ha! Thick but not thick enough!" He jumped out of the chair. "Come on, we need to get up higher. I'm going to need a few minutes to sort through this stuff."

Rose nodded and the Doctor paused in his grim glee to examine her. He put his hands on either side of her face and asked softly, "Are you okay?"

"'m fine," she replied quietly.

"Are you having any trouble breathing?"

She shook her head.

His eyes were pained but he managed to keep his voice level. "You will soon. All these terrified people and hundreds of Judoon, they're eating up the air like piranhas. Do you remember how I told you to breathe with low air?"

She nodded, covering his hand with one of her own.

"Good." He managed a genuine smile and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "The last thing we need is Jackie Tyler breaking the walls of reality to come after me because I let you die on the moon."

Rose half laughed at that and the Doctor took her hand, leading her out into the hall. They rounded the corner and the same time Martha burst through a door and careened into them. The Doctor let go of Rose to steady the medical student.

"I've restored the backup," he announced.

Eyes wide with panic, she blurted, "I found her!"

"You did what?"

The door Martha emerged from was shoved forward, falling to the floor with a thud that made everyone nearby shriek, and a tall figure in black leather wearing what appeared to be a motorcycle helmet leaped through. Whatever it was, it was too thin to be a Judoon, but definitely not friendly.

The Doctor's eyes widened, "Run!" he grabbed their hands and took off down the hall with the leather man hard on their trail. They passed patients and doctors alike who leaped away to avoid getting hit or were simply huddled against the wall. He let go of their hands to push the door to the staircase open and they immediately bounded down, and Rose was wondering why they weren't going up and away from the Judoon when, lo and behind, the humanoid rhinos appeared beneath them, marching up the staircase to the fourth floor.

The Doctor swiveled around, grabbing the women to steady them, then pushed them towards the exit.

They ran down an empty staff corridor lined with carts and cleaning supplies here and there along the walls. Panels were crooked in the ceiling, or missing altogether, and wires hung from the holes left behind, a result of the violent tremors from the H2O scoop.

A quick glance over her shoulder showed the Leather Man pursuing them determinedly. "What did you do to this guy, Martha?" Rose gasped.

The medical student let out a breathy whimper, struggling just to keep up with them.

They ran along the corridors with the Doctor seemingly picking turns at random, which resulted in a lot of skidding and pushing off the walls and banged elbows. The Doctor stopped abruptly, catching Rose and shoving her down a side hall. Martha was just far enough behind that he managed to push her as well and then he bolted after them. Their momentary pause had reduced the Leather Man's distance by several feet, and he was practically on top of them when the Doctor opened a door, jostled both women in and following before slamming it shut in Leather Man's face, locking the door with his screwdriver. That wouldn't hold him for long.

They were in an x-ray room with someone's scans still hanging on the boards, a testament to how normal things had been just an hour ago. The Doctor grabbed them both, yet again, and pushed them into the control room. "When I say 'now', press the button, Martha!"

Martha's hands flailed around uselessly. "But I don't know which one!"

"How do you not know?" Rose cried. "You're a doctor!"

"Yeah, but I'm not a radiologist!"

"Well you better start learning!" The Doctor barked and withdrew from the room, heading for the machinery.

Martha stared down at the controls in dismay and Rose looked around the room for something that would give them any clue on what to do. Did they expect the employees to just have this memorized? "Aren't there any instructions? A how-to or something?!"

The Leather Man started to ram against the door.

"Oh, yes!" Martha grabbed a book from the counter labeled Operator's Manual. She wrenched it open, flitting through the pages desperately for something, anything that'd give her a clue how to work the damned machine, and wishing she'd opted to take a radiology course in med school, and vowing that she would find a way to if she survived this. Rose stood in front of the control panel with her hands ready to act.

Then the door gave way under the assault, crashing to the floor and Martha gasped. The Doctor had the X-ray machine pointed like a gun at the doorway and the fast-approaching Leather Man.

"Which button?" Rose screeched as the Doctor shouted, "NOW!"

Martha shook her head, sending up a silent prayer that this would work, and pointed to the big yellow button that was higher than the others. Rose slammed her hand down on it and they both flinched away, squeezing their eyes shut against the near-blinding white light, not unlike the light of the H20 scoop. An odd buzzing sound filled the air that reminded Rose of the sonic screwdriver as massive amounts of radiation exploded into the air. She could almost feel it in her bones, the power being released onto the poor bastard that had pursued them. And then it was over and the light and sound and sensations disappeared like they'd never been there, save for a residual tingle in the air. The Leather Man fell face forward to the floor and for a moment the room was silent except for the tiny jingle of his zipper. Breathing heavily, Rose gripped the control panel for support. The Doctor let go of his impromptu weapon and took a step towards the body on the floor.

"What did you do?" Martha asked.

"Increased the radiation by five thousand percent." The Doctor explained. "Killed him dead."

"Nice," Rose remarked under her breath, looking at the thing on the floor. Whatever it was it must've been bad if the Doctor—the man who believed everyone deserved an opportunity to cease and desist, the man who preferred to fight with wits and words—chose to kill it without even giving it a chance.

"But isn't that gonna kill you?" Martha asked, setting the manual down.

"Nah, it's only roentgen radiation. We used to play with roentgen bricks in the nursery."

Rose snorted with laughter and Martha looked at her like she was crazy. The Doctor frowned, twitching oddly. "What?"

"I'm sorry…but I can just picture a mini-you with…big ol' ears and a diaper playin with glowin' green blocks," she chortled.

"Oi, I'll have you know, I did not have big ears when I was a baby. And diapers are only for very young infants. Unlike you apes, we learn how to control our basic bodily functions fairly quickly."

Rose continued to laugh, giddy with the relief that came from the adrenaline rush during the chase combined with her adorable mental pictures. The Doctor gave her a smug look, still twitching oddly, and said, "I seem to recall you playing with some odd things when you were a baby."

Rose frowned indigently. "Hey, when did you go lookin' at me when I was a baby?"

"It was Jack's idea," he explained sheepishly.

"Hey!" Martha shouted. "Would you two stop it for a moment and focus? What's wrong with you?" she asked the Doctor. "Why are you…" she made a face and gestured at him with her hands, "…twitching?"

"I absorbed all the radiation," he explained. "It's safe for you to come out…I just need to…ah, ah…expel it."

He bounced on his toes, hopping from foot to foot, shaking his limbs. Both women cautiously exited the control room. Rose tried to get closer to him, only to be stopped by Martha who shook her head. She wasn't a specialist, but she knew enough about the radiation currently in the Doctor's body to know it wasn't something Rose should be exposed to on that scale.

"If I concentrate I can shake the radiation out of my body and into one spot." He shook his head, looking down at his left foot and held it aloft, hopping up and down on his right foot. "It's in my left shoe. Here we go, here we go, easy does it..." He kicked his foot. "Out, out! Ow! Ow! Ow!"

Martha stared at him completely nonplussed and Rose's shoulders were shaking with barely constrained laughter.

"Ah, ah, ah, ah! Itches, itches, itches, itches, oh! Ah, hold on!" He grabbed his shoe and pulled it off, sock and all. Lifting the lid of a yellow bin, he tossed them both inside and slammed it shut.

"Done." He announced.

"You're completely mad," Martha realized. Rose sputtered out a laugh.

"You're right," he said seriously. "I look daft in one shoe." He leaned down, plucked the other sock and shoe off and chucked them in the bin with their counterparts. Martha gawked at him. "Barefoot on the moon." His teeth clicked together.

That was all Rose could take. She roared with laughter, leaning against the wall for support as her body shook with the force of it and her legs felt like they'd give out. The Doctor chuckled right along with her, grinning broadly, and Martha shook her head.

"Mad. Completely mad. Both of you!"

That just made them laugh even more and Martha sighed, looking down at the dead Leather Man. She waited until their laughter had subsided before bothering to speak.

"If you two are quite done, do you want to explain to me what the hell that thing is and where it's from? The planet Zovirax?" She crouched down next to the corpse to examine it.

"It's just a Slab," the Doctor said, crouching opposite of her. "They're called Slabs. Basic slave drones."

"Basic slave drones? Sound a bit familiar, Doctor?" Rose asked tightly.

He glanced up. "Not like the Ood." He assured her. "It wasn't alive, not really. Look, solid leather all the way through. Someone has got one hell of a fetish."

"Like someone else I know." Rose teased.

The Doctor huffed and went to retrieve his screwdriver. "Different me."

"It was that woman, Miss Finnegan." Martha said. "It was working for her just like a servant."

"Sounds an awful lot like an Ood," Rose commented.

There was a hiss as the Doctor removed his sonic screwdriver that, sadly, appeared to not have made it through the increase of radiation unscathed. "My sonic screwdriver!" he exclaimed quietly.

Unaware of the significance, Martha continued right on, "She was one of the patients, but—"

"My sonic screwdriver!" he repeated. Rose peered at it and frowned. It wasn't just damaged; it was fried.

"—she had a straw like some kind of vampire!"

"I loved my sonic screwdriver! Rose, look at—"

"Doctor!"

"Sorry!" He apologized, tossing his beloved screwdriver over his shoulder like yesterday's garbage. It hit the wall and clattered against the floor and Rose rolled her eyes. The Doctor grinned. "You called me 'Doctor.'"

"Anyway." Martha said pointedly. "Miss Finnegan is the alien. She was drinking Mr. Stoker's blood."

"Poor bloke." Rose muttered.

"Funny time to take a snack. You'd think she'd be hiding." He mused, then his eyes widened. "Unless—no. …Yes, that's it! Wait a minute… YES! Shape-changer! Internal shape-changer!" To Rose he said, "Remember that plasmavore on Srensto? The little boy who tried to drink you blood with that curly straw?"

Rose made a face and shuddered. "Oh God, don't remind me. I still can't even look at those things…"

"Miss Finnegan must be a plasmavore. She wasn't drinking the blood. She was assimilating it! If she can assimilate Mr. Stoker's blood, mimic the biology, she'll register as human."

"And if she does that—"

"Then I'll be the only thing in this hospital that doesn't register as human and unless they know they're after a female, they'll assume it was me. We've got to find her and show the Judoon. Come on!"

They ran from the room but the Doctor froze almost immediately. Unprepared, Rose crashed into him and Martha just managed to avoid causing a dog pile. "Doctor?" Rose gasped.

"Ah, tchhh, shh, shh!" He held up his hand, listening inteltly to something they couldn't hear. "Down!" He hissed, pulling them against the wall, and crouched down in a doorway behind a water dispenser.

"What is it?" Martha whispered.

"Shh!" He hissed fiercely, his teeth bared in a snarl. Rose put her hand on his cheek and gazed at him, begging him with her eyes to calm down.

A door opened down the hall and closed. The trio waited, holding their breath, as the sound of footsteps and leather moving against leather came closer to them. An identical duplicate of the body they'd left in the room walked by. It didn't pause or even glance their way, continuing on down the hall. Martha's breathing was shaky when she inhaled again.

"That's the thing about Slabs," the Doctor explained quietly once it was out of earshot. "The always travel in pairs."

"What about you two?" Martha asked.

The Doctor frowned. "What about us?"

"Do you two always travel together like this? Just each other's backup for this go-round, full-time partners, or are you more than that?"

"We're friends," Rose said, "and yeah, we do travel with each other full-time."

"Humans," the Doctor scoffed. "We're stuck on the moon, running out of air, with Judoon and a bloodsucking criminal, you're asking personal questions. Come on."

He stepped out, keeping low and watching the way the Slab had gone in case it came back.

"I like that," Martha muttered. "'Humans.' I'm still not convinced you're an alien."

So focused on watching for the Slab, the Doctor didn't notice that he'd stepped out in front of a troop of Judoon until he turned and found the blue light of a scanner shining in his eyes.

"Nonhuman," the masked rhino declared and Rose swore softly.

"Oh my God, you really are!" Martha murmured.

"And again!" The Doctor grabbed Rose's hand and the three of them booked it.

Behind them, the Judoon drew their guns and they whined as they powered up. There was a distinct noise as they fired and the three of them barely ducked in time to avoid getting vaporized. Martha shrieked once. Wrenching the door open, they darted into the stairway and headed up this time. Rose found she had to agree with the Doctor's view on hospitals: the only thing good about them were the shops. She was beginning to feel the shortage of oxygen, too. It was harder and harder to get a good lungful of air. They were running out of time.

They went back onto the seventh floor and Rose took point, leading them around corners and through doorways while the Doctor remained in the back, locking doors behind them the old fashioned way. It wasn't much, but it'd slow any Judoon after them for a few moments. They emerged into a corridor, walking briskly past people who were slumping to the floor, trying to breathe in the thinning air. Some were lucky enough to have oxygen masks strapped to their face, but those tanks were like Titanic lifeboats. They could save them for a time, wouldn't last long if they weren't rescued.

"They've done this floor. Come on. The Judoon are logical and just a little bit thick." the Doctor explained. "They won't go back to check a floor they've checked already. If we're lucky."

Martha noticed her friend kneeling by a patient with an oxygen mask and she stopped, kneeling beside her. Julia gave her a look of despair, but she was calmer now, having accepted their location and what had to be done.

"Doctor, I don't know if you noticed, but we're usually not lucky." Rose pointed out tersely, then realized Martha was no longer with them and paused. "Hold on, wait."

The Doctor turned around. "What?"

She pointed to Martha and Julia, the latter was rubbing the arm of a black woman in a sky blue robe who had an oxygen mask on her face.

"How much oxygen is there?" Martha asked.

"Not enough for all these people," Julia replied quietly. "We're gonna run out."

"How are you feeling?" the Doctor asked Martha. "Are you alright?"

"I'm running on adrenaline."

"Welcome to our world," he muttered then looked at Rose. "And you?"

"Been better," she said, taking deliberate, slow breaths. "Been worse."

"Rose."

"I'll be fine, Doctor. Let's just not run anymore marathons, yeah?" She said seriously. "But what about the Judoon?"

"Ah, great big lung reserves. It won't slow them down. Where's Mr. Stokers office?"

"Just down here," Martha pushed herself to her feet and walked past them. The Doctor followed.

Rose hung back for a moment. Julia's eyes were resigned and sad as if she'd already accepted her fate. "We're all going to die, aren't we?" Julia asked calmly.

"No," Rose shook her head. "We're gonna make it, I promise you."

Julia shook her head as well. "Don't."

Rose knelt down beside Julia and the patient who was now looking at Rose as well. "Listen to me." Rose ordered. "Do you remember the aliens at Christmas? The Cybermen? And the ship hittin' Big Ben? Everyone thought the world was gonna end, right? Well, it didn't. You know why? 'Cause we stopped it, me 'n him. We stopped that then, and we're gonna stop this now. I'm not mad, I swear. Just keep up what you're doin. Alright? Be a doctor." She gave both women a reassuring smile then followed after the Doctor.

Just down the hall were the double doors the Slab had come bursting out of and she could hear the Doctor talking from within. She carefully stepped over the fallen door into a large office with pictures of human anatomy and Mr. Stoker's credentials in frames. Mr. Stoker himself was on the floor, dead, his skin a gross shade of gray. Rose made a face.

"—right. She is a plasmavore."

"What's she doing on Earth?" Martha asked.

"Hiding, on the run. Like Ronald Biggs in Rio de Janeiro." He frowned. "What's she doing now? She's still not safe. …The Judoon could execute us all. Come on." He rose and headed for the door, grabbing Rose's hand as he passed.

"Wait," Martha said suddenly. She walked over and knelt respectfully beside her former instructor, sliding his eyelids shut with her fingers. Rose and the Doctor looked on solemnly. Martha stood up and exhaled, nodding.

The Doctor pulled Rose out into the hallway. "Think, think, think!" he said to himself. "If I was a wanted plasmavore surrounded by police, what would I do?" He looked up and froze, his muscles tense. Rose followed his gaze to a red sign with white letters that read 'MRI' with an arrow pointing left.

"Aaah… she's as clever as me. Almost."

"What do you—" Rose started to ask, but a door down the hall banged open and people screamed. Heavy footsteps and a gruff voice echoed loudly over the human cries, "Find the nonhuman. Execute."

The Doctor put his hands on Rose's shoulders. "Rose, stay here with Martha. I need time. You've got to hold them up."

"No," she shook her head. "No, she can hold them up. I'm not leavin' you."

"Rose," he said seriously. "Trust me. I need you to stay here. I've got a plan, but if you're there, it might not work. Rose, please."

Rose gritted her teeth and glared at him. He stared back and for once it seemed he would not be swayed and they didn't have time for arguing. The Judoon could reach them any second. So she exhaled angrily through her teeth to let him know her displeasure and nodded.

"What do I do?" she asked.

"Stall." He said, cupping her face in his hands. "Then lead them to the MRI room."

"Okay," Rose nodded. "How should I—?"

He leaned forward and kissed her full on the mouth, his hands tightening on her face, then he broke away and ran down the hall away from the Judoon without looking back. Rose swallowed, her lips trembling as she sucked in a breath. It wasn't the first time he'd kissed her but was definitely chaste compared to some of the kisses they'd shared.

"Just friends, eh?" Martha muttered.

Rose swallowed. "Best mates." She looked down at the ground and noticed, for the first time, an oxygen tank lying empty near the wall. Someone had scrawled the words Bad Wolf with a black marker onto the metal container. After all this time, Bad Wolf was still looking out for their Doctor.

Martha followed her gaze to the random words on the tank, probably written by some delirious or terrified patient. But the sight of those two words seemed to stir something in Rose. Her mouth tightened, her eyes narrowed, she squared her shoulders and when she spoke it was with an authority she didn't have before. "Come on. We'll head them off."

They retreated to the hallway where Julia was and stood between the oncoming Judoon and the Doctor. Martha's breathing was shallow and she was trembling, a sharp contrast to Rose, who was standing eerily still, her shoulders squared, and her chin lifted.

"Find the nonhuman. Execute!" The unmasked Judoon roared.

"Judoon!" Rose shouted. "Judoon! Listen to me! We know who you're lookin' for! She's here, in the hospital."

The Judoon stopped in front of them, but Martha couldn't tell if they were going to listen or sweep them out of the way.

"She's this woman, she calls herself Florence." Martha explained, her voice surprisingly level. The Judoon Chief pulled out his scanner and shined it in Martha's face.

"Human." He declared and grabbed Martha's hand, marking it with a thick black X, before he turned the scanner on Rose. This time it beeped out a slightly different report. "Human. Wait. Nonhuman trace suspected."

Behind him, the masked Judoon drew their guns and pointed at Rose. "Nonhuman element confirmed. Authorize full scan."

"Listen to me—" Rose's gaze hardened and she started to lift her arm, but the Judoon caught it, twisted it, and she inhaled loudly, her face contorting in pain as he backed her against the wall.

"Rose!" Martha shouted.

"Keep back." Her gaze was hard, despite the moisture in her eyes, and she stared down the monstrous alien.

"What are you? What are you?" the Judoon demanded.

"That's the question, ain't it?" She asked through her clenched teeth without a trace of fear. Martha stared at the blonde woman like she'd never seen her before. There was something in Rose's eyes, something dark and ancient and feral and Martha found herself wondering exactly how human Rose was.

Julia put her hand on Martha's arm and she turned to her friend. "What did it mean, 'nonhuman element?' Is she an alien?"

"I don't think so, but…" But what human could stare down a Judoon like that especially when in that much pain? "I don't know. I just don't know anymore."

The Judoon stepped back, releasing Rose, and she brought her injured arm to her chest protectively. He grabbed her other hand and marked it with an X, declaring, "Human. Traces of recent facial contact with nonhuman and older contact with multiple nonhuman species on multiple areas of the body."

"I could've told you that," Rose muttered.

"Continue the search," he ordered the troops, then handed Rose a thin piece of white plastic. "You will need this."

"What's that for?"

"Compensation."

Rose peered at it with interest, like she was actually able to understand the strange writing on it. "Blimey, is this for standard credit?" She muttered, pocketing the white piece of plastic, and followed after the Judoon.

Martha and Julia stared, dumbfounded, but Martha recovered first. "Keep on, Julia."

"But…" Julia stared after her friend, but made no move to follow her, Rose, or the Judoon. Whatever had happened to Martha in the last hour, Julia wanted no part of it.

Martha hurried to catch up with Rose who was insisting that she knew what they were after. "You said it yourself! Multiple nonhuman traces! I know what I'm talkin' about!" She turned to Martha and said under her breath, "Thickheads. I think they broke my wrist."

"Human. Where is the nonhuman?" the Judoon Chief demanded.

She pointed at the sign that said MRI. "Follow the signs."

The Judoon took off quickly and Martha and Rose were barely able to keep up. Rose's wrist was already darkening with bruises and Martha could hear her hiss softly in pain as it was jostled around. They were trailing behind when the Judoon reached the room and arrived in time to hear the Chief, whose scanner pointing at a familiar man on the floor, say, "Confirm—deceased."

Rose froze, completely and utterly, and then she let out shriek that wasn't human and threw herself forward, only to be restrained by one of the Judoon. "NO! Doctor! Doctor!" she screeched.

"Case closed."

"Let go! GET OFF ME!" She shouted, looking up at the woman with a feral look, an odd gleam of yellow in her eyes. "It wasn't him! It was her! She killed him!"

"She did," Martha added, trying to get past. "She murdered him like she murdered Mr. Stoker!"

"Judoon have no authority over human crime," the Chief responded.

"She's not human!" Rose spat at the plasmavore.

"Oh, but I am. I've been catalogued." Florence Finnegan said, holding up the back of her hand, showing the thick X inked onto her skin.

"But she's not!" Martha protested. "She assimi—" she stopped mid-sentence, eyes widening as she realized what the Doctor had done. "Wait a minute. You drank his blood—the Doctor's blood?"

Rose made a noise of rage and struggled again to get at the plasmavore, but the Judoon held firm. Martha grabbed a scanner off one of the Judoon and shined it at Finnegan.

"Oh, I don't mind!" The woman tittered. "Scan all you like."

The scanner beeped its result. "Nonhuman," the Chief declared.

The woman's amusement vanished. "What?"

"Confirm analysis."

A half dozen scanners were pointed at the plasmavore and Rose's face twisted into a vicious smile, finally understanding the Doctor's idiotic plan.

"Oh, but it's a mistake, surely!" she tittered nervously. "I'm human. I'm as human as they come."

"He gave his life so they'd find you." Martha, for her part, was amazed. The Doctor didn't know any of these people and yet he'd died for them, like some sort of scrawny super hero.

"And if they don't kill you, I will." Rose vowed. Martha's eyes widened and she looked at her. That hadn't sounded like Rose, not the Rose she knew. There'd been a faint echo to her voice, almost like someone else starting to speak with her. More frightening were her eyes, definitely more golden than brown, and murderous. The only thing keeping that vampire-alien alive right now was, ironically, a Judoon.

"Confirm—plasmavore." The Judoon declared and all traces of humanity vanished from the woman's face. "Charged with murdering the child princess of Padrivole Regency Nine."

"Well, she deserved it." The plasmavore growled. "Those pink cheeks and those blonde curls and that simpering voice. She was begging for the bite of a plasmavore."

"Do you confess?"

"Confess? I'm proud of it!" She shouted and retreated behind her bodyguard "Slab—stop them!"

The drone moved to do just that, but before he could do more than take a few steps towards them, a Judoon fired his gun and a red beam of light shot into the Slab. It turned red, disintegrating into the air. Finnegan was already at work, messing the wires in the control room and Rose and Martha noticed the machine for the first time, fizzing and crackling with power.

"Verdict—guilty," the Chief said. "Sentence—execution."

With a savage grin, she shoved two chords together and an alarm began to blare, the words 'magnetic overload' flashing in red on a sign.

"Down!" Martha gasped, pulling Rose to the floor as the Judoon drew their guns. The plasmavore was shouting at the Judoon but her words made no sense to Rose as she struggled forward on her elbows and knees, ignoring the pain in her broken wrist, to reach the Doctor.

"Doctor," she whispered, touching his cold cheek. The Judoon fired and she felt the heat from the beams but she didn't look up. The plasmavore died with a shriek. Martha crawled over to Rose and the Doctor.

"Case closed." the Chief announced.

"What did she mean, 'burn with me?'" Martha asked then pointed at the buzzing machine. "The scanner shouldn't be doing that. She's done something."

The chief drew his scanner and approached the fizzing machine. It beeped warningly. "Scans detect lethal acceleration of monomagnetic pulse."

"Well, do something! Stop it!"

The Judoon stepped away from the machine. "Our jurisdiction has ended. Judoon will evacuate."

"You can't just leave it! What's it going to do?"

"All units withdraw!" The Chief ordered into a com device and they did just that, filing out in an orderly fashion, the same way they'd come.

Martha chased after them into the hall. "You can't go! That thing's going to explode and it's all your fault!" she screamed.

The Judoon continued their march and, defeated, Martha reentered the room with the ticking time bomb, the dead alien, and the distraught supposed-human. Rose was still kneeling next to him with her hands on his chest, her mouth moving soundlessly. As she got closer, Martha realized she was speaking softly to the Doctor.

"…and you promised me we'd go back to Barcelona and see the dogs with no noses. Remember? I...I was gonna try an' talk you into lettin' me keep one this time. A proper pet, not a daft bloke who nearly gets us killed. And we were gonna go back an' find Jack after he's had time to rebuild everythin' and we could be all together again. And…and…" her voice broke and she let out a sob, slapping his chest with the hand that wasn't injured. "Come on, regenerate! Please, Doctor, I love you… You promised…"

He's pale…but not as pale as Mr. Stoker was! Martha realized. There might still be a chance. "Rose," she knelt next to the Doctor, across from her. "Look, he's not like Mr. Stoker. I think he's still got blood in him. Maybe it's not too late. Has he got normal lungs and stuff?" Rose nodded.

Martha didn't waste any time, pinching his nose with one hand and opening his mouth with the other, and breathed into him. She started compressions on his left heart, counting out five, then she breathed into his mouth again. She started compressing his left heart once more and Rose realized that they'd never mentioned that one little difference between Time Lord and human anatomy.

"Martha, you're not doin' it right."

"What do you mean?"

"He's got two hearts."

Martha gawked, her breathing labored, and stopped compressing. "Two hearts? How can he—"

She was wasting precious time and air asking stupid questions!

Rose shoved her hands out of the way and did the compressions herself, ignoring the excruciating pain racing up her right arm. It wouldn't matter that her arm was broken if the Doctor didn't come back. Her life wouldn't be worth living. Not that she had long to live with the magnetic machine going apeshit behind her. Fresh tears filled her eyes and she blinked them away, drawing in a big breath of air, and blew into his mouth.

The Doctor inhaled sharply. His eyes flew open and he coughed, gasping for air, sucking the precious life force from around them. He lifted his head, gazing at Rose, and she smiled at him through her tears. The pain combined with lack of oxygen was too much and her limbs gave way, collapsing to the floor next to him.

"Doctor," she breathed.

"The scanner." Martha choked out, slumping to the floor as well. "She did…something."

Coughing and gasping, the Doctor looked at the MRI. Martha's eyes drifted shut as she lost consciousness. Blackness swam at the edge of Rose's vision and she knew she wouldn't be far behind. She thought she might have said, "Hurry," but she wasn't sure if she even had the oxygen left for that. The Doctor touched her briefly then crawled for the control room, coughing and gasping the whole way.

Rose's head swam and the world around her blurred as she lost consciousness, fading into soft, golden light…

* * *

**Turns out my roommate's spazz was Glee related. Something about Chris's book and Klaine. Idk. **

**Drop a review (or tell people you know. Link to it on tumblr. Do somethin, ya?!) and take some cookies on your way out. Please limit yourself to two - there's a lot of people who need cookies.**

**ANNNDDD if you haven't already voted for the Doctor/Rose in Hypable's ship-battle GO DO IT. You can vote once a day and it ends tonight. So go. **

**www*hypable*com/2012/12/03/hypable-battleships-the-final-battle-glee-doctor-who/**


	5. The New Companion

**I just got back from a con. I hugged the Tenth Doctor. Multiple times. And the 11th Doctor. And the Fourth Doctor. And the TARDIS. And I - dressed as a moogle - became the temporary imaginary friend of Christopher Sabat (for any of you Dragon Ball Z or FMA fans...)**

**Here's the chapter. **

* * *

Someone was singing. A woman, she thought. She knew this song. It was in her dreams. It reminded her of time and power and intense love that made her want to fight and kill and die to preserve it. A song that made her think of a pack of wolves running through the night with stars in their fur. A song that reminded her of her family: a blonde woman who actually had dark hair and a ginger man with tears in his eyes; a young man with dark skin and a handsome man with a charming smile; a man with two faces, one with big ears and blue eyes, and the other with big hair and brown eyes. This was the one she loved the most.

The singing voice slowly deepened from feminine to masculine, garbled and wordless, but just as familiar and made her feel calm, safe, and loved. "Ro…Ro…se… Rose…Rose? Rose!"

She opened her eyes and stared at the unidentifiable mass above her. Her vision was hazy and unfocused. She blinked several times and a pair of concerned brown eyes came into focus.

"Doctor?" she mumbled.

The Doctor ducked his head to press his lips against her forehead. "You're alright," he whispered, relief coloring his tone. "You're alright. Oh, thank Rassilon."

She smiled, reaching up with her unbroken arm to touch his cheek and her vision was blurred again, this time with tears. "You were dead…you'd…I thought you'd left me."

The Doctor exhaled and cradled her to his chest protectively. "I'm sorry. It was the only thing I could think of. If we'd had more time I could've come up with something else, I'm sure, but—"

"And if I'd been there…"

"She might've gone for you instead or just simply killed you." His grip on her tightened at the thought. She hissed in pain as her wrist was shifted and he drew back. "What is it?"

She lifted her wrist gingerly, showing him the bruised skin. "That Judoon Chief. I think he might've broken it when he grabbed me."

The Doctor's eyes darkened with anger. He looked ready to chase after the Judoon ships and rain down hell upon them—and he probably would have if she didn't need medical attention. He stood up, still holding her and she smiled weakly. "It's my arm, Doctor, not my legs. I can walk."

A muscle in his jaw twitched and he reluctantly set her on her feet. She swayed a bit but stayed upright, inhaling and exhaling deeply.

"We've got air," she observed.

"Yup. While you were out they popped us back to Earth."

Rose's eyes widened. "Martha?"

"She's fine," he assured her. "She was unconscious, I took her out into the ward then I came back for you. She'll be all right; the emergency crews are here sorting it all out. And UNIT will probably be here soon if they're not already, so we should probably get moving before they find us or we'll never get out here and I need to get a look at that." He nodded to her wrist, then as an afterthought, he reached up and pulled his tie off, wrapping it around her arm as a makeshift splint.

They took the elevator so her arm wouldn't be jolted around too much and Rose protested about Martha the entire way down.

"It's been a while since we had someone else onboard," she reminded him. "And not that I don't mind it bein' just the two of us, but don't you think she deserves to at least to _know_? We don't have to make her a permanent resident, but she saved your life, Doctor. I thought it was too late for CPR, I was just hopin' you'd regenerate…but she tried anyway."

He raised his eyebrows. "But that was you at the end."

"Didn't believe me when I said you had two hearts. But it was her idea, yeah."

"Well, then, I suppose we do owe her at least a round trip." He decided after a moment. "If she wants to come."

Rose grinned. They walked with practiced confidence past the emergency crews examining people and no one bothered them. There were more people outside the hospital and what appeared to be every ambulance this side of the Thames. The police were there and it looked like the military was starting to turn up as well. The TARDIS was where they'd parked her across from the hospital, unnoticed and undisturbed, waiting anxiously for them.

Rose looked back at the hospital and movement near one of the ambulances caught her eye. Two black women were standing there, one of them speaking frantically to the other, who was wearing the white coat of a doctor. It was Martha and she was looking over the woman's shoulder at them. Rose smiled and the Doctor waved his free hand at her.

The Doctor opened up the door to the TARDIS and ushered Rose in quickly, shutting the door behind them, and ran towards the console. The TARDIS hummed welcomingly and Rose felt her relief at having them back safe and sound. Rose stroked the closest coral branch and smiled. The Doctor danced around the console and the rotor pumped up and down and they left London behind.

"Alright, Miss Tyler, to the infirmary with you!"

A few minutes later they'd located the infirmary deep within the TARDIS, a lot further than it normally was, as if she wanted to keep them safe deep within. Rose recalled the fear she'd felt from the TARDIS before the scoop had taken them, and knew the TARDIS must have felt it when the Doctor had died, and wasn't bothered in the slightest by their ship's protectiveness. The Doctor scanned her arm with one of the machines, muttering to himself about making another sonic screwdriver. Her wrist was broken, but it wasn't the first time and it certainly wouldn't be the last. He gave her something to dull the pain as he set the bone, and gave her an injection to speed the healing process.

"I'll give it another boost once it get a new screwdriver up and running. In the mean time you're wearing a brace." He opened a drawer and pulled out one of the bright pink braces Rose wore whenever she injured her arm. He rolled his eyes at it but his expression was fond as he fastened it around her arm.

Rose held it up for examination and smiled at fond memories of visiting different times and planets while times wearing it. The surface of that brace and its twin were covered in scrawling text from people who'd signed them. Some of the signatures weren't even in English, written by many different hands, claws, paws, and other various prehensile extremities from across time and space. Her favorite was a tiny, messy name near her thumb written by a little elflike girl named Lilah who'd been fascinated the color of her cast, not found anywhere on her planet, and the story of why Rose needed it to begin with.

_We should go back,_ Rose thought. _Lilah would love to hear this one_. Now if only she could convince the Doctor. He seemed to have something against going back to places once he'd been there that century, with the exception of 21st century Earth. Though that probably had something to do with the threat of multiple Tyler slaps hanging over his head if he kept her away from home and her mum. She didn't suppose that would be an issue anymore, unless, of course, they took on another passenger from that era.

"So. Martha?" Rose tilted her head.

"I suppose so," he nodded, straightening up the counter and putting everything back into its place. "But the minute she gets a door to her brain in her forehead, she's goin' right back home."

"Deal," she agreed.

"But, we'll have to wait until tomorrow. I need to get a screwdriver up and working before we head anywhere."

"Alright, then, I'm gonna shower and go to bed. You go make a new screwdriver and when you're done with that, get some sleep. You nearly died today. That's not somethin' you can just bounce back from."

Rose slid off the bed and set off in search of her room. The TARDIS had rearranged things in their absence so there was no telling where it'd gotten to.

The next morning, Rose stood in the console room wearing a purple tank top under her favorite denim jacket and a pair of jeans with a fresh coat of makeup applied. She felt like herself again, all the appropriate layers in place. In her hands she held two steaming cups of tea. The Doctor was fiddling around a panel on the console. She couldn't tell if he'd slept at all, but he was wearing his old brown pinstriped suit, so that was something.

"Good morning. Fancy a cuppa?" She asked, holding out the mug.

He smiled and took it from her. "Thanks. I was about to come ask if you wanted one."

Rose grinned, her tongue poking out, and she sat down in the chair. "So, how's it comin'?"

"Almost done," he said, taking a sip of the tea as he sat beside her. "Just getting the settings reprogrammed and trying to convince the TARDIS to land us later that evening. She's convinced that 2008 is a bad year. Apparently some interesting things happen, besides the hospital getting taken to the moon."

"Ooh…do you think we should check it out?" Rose asked.

In response, the rotor made an angry sound and the ever-present hum of the TARDIS seemed to deepen, the lights flickering ominously.

"Okay, okay," she said. "We'll behave, promise. But we just want to go back for Martha. She _did _save the Doctor, after all. He'd be dead without her and so would I."

The angry vibe in the air diminished and the hum lightened happily. The Doctor put his arm around Rose's shoulders and she leaned into him.

"That's the spirit," he said cheerfully then asked Rose, "How'd you sleep?"

"Good. Surprisingly good, actually, considering." She frowned at him. "What about you or did you even sleep?"

"I was in there with you for about five hours," he assured her. "I was careful not to wake you. No nightmares?"

"No nightmares." Rose confirmed with a satisfied nod. "I was too tired for nightmares."

Something on the console dinged and a small, narrow cylinder popped out of a hole she hadn't noticed before. He stood up with an "Ah!" of triumph. Downing the rest of his tea in a few gulps, he handed the mug to Rose, and pressed a few more buttons on the panel, then pulled the new screwdriver out. He held it up for examination. "Look at you," he crooned. "Nice and shiny, all the old settings with a few new ones. Hold on, let me see—Rose, present arms!"

Rose held up her wounded arm. He shined the sonic on it and the new screwdriver emitted the same sound as its predecessor. She felt a peculiar but familiar sliding sensation inside her arm as he gave her cells a regenerative boost.

"There! Shouldn't be long before you're out of it." He held it out proudly. "What do you think, Rose?"

She peered at the Doctor's new toy. "Looks almost the same as the old one."

"I know. I liked that screwdriver. Three bodies that went through, I'll have you know. Why mess with perfection?"

It suddenly occurred to Rose that she didn't know what regeneration the Doctor was on. She'd thought about it when he first regenerated, and again with Sarah Jane, but hadn't felt comfortable enough to ask after each instance, and she'd eventually forgotten. She knew he was over nine hundred years old and his bodies could last for centuries if he let them.

"What number are you on?" she asked.

"This makes my sixth screwdriver," he said, still examining it closely.

"No, I mean, what body are you on?"

He froze for a second, then looked up, all giddiness forgotten. "What?"

"Which regeneration are you on?" Rose asked. "Sarah Jane said you'd been different when she knew you—I showed her a picture of the old you last time we were there an' she didn't recognize you. And what you just said about that bein' your sixth your screwdriver…"

"Tenth," he said.

She blinked. "But you just said—"

"No, I mean, I'm on my tenth reincarnation." He said, sitting down next to her. "My eighth body died at the end of the Time War after I…" He trailed off, swallowing once, and cleared his throat. "Then you met me not long after in my ninth. I'm barely over nine hundred years old and I'm on my tenth body." He shook his head ruefully. "I'm going through them rather quickly."

"Well, I guess that happens when you can't stay out of trouble for five minutes." She said lightly and he gave her an impish smile. "So, is there a limit on how many times you can regenerate or is it just never ending?"

"Twelve regenerations, thirteen lives."

Rose's eyes widened. "And…what happens after you run out of regenerations?"

"I die," he said simply. Rose looked at the mugs in her hands, trying to process that. He was on his tenth body, so he could only have three more and then he'd be dead. Finished. His life extinguished from the universe, along with the legacy of the Time Lords. And what about her? His ninth body had apparently lasted about a year or so. What happened if he ran out before she died?

He could probably tell where her thoughts had gone, because he spoke again in a cheerful tone, "But don't worry! I quite like this body. I plan on keeping it for a while. Now, let's go get Miss Martha Jones."

Rose ran the mugs back to the kitchen, which was closer to the console room than it had been earlier, then hurried back, arriving just as the TARDIS touched down. "Here we are!" he said happily. "The night we left, isn't that right?" he glanced up.

The TARDIS hummed happily.

"Good enough for me!" Rose said, heading for the doors. The Doctor grabbed his coat and followed her. Rose peeked outside. It was nighttime, and definitely 21st century or thereabouts. But the TARDIS had seemed pretty content to let them pick up Martha, so she had to hope they were in the right place.

"Well, go on, then. She can't be too far. Ooh," the Doctor furrowed his brow. "That sounds interesting."

Rose listened. From somewhere beyond the alleyway, she could hear several voices raised in anger, one of which was annoyingly high and nasally.

"Humans," he muttered.

Rose followed the voices out of the alley and down the street. She paused at the corner, glancing back to make sure the Doctor was behind her, then peered around to see what the fuss was about. A blonde woman in heels and a glitzy dress was in the street, saying something about drugs and the news, while an older black woman insulted her intelligence. A black man stood between them, one hand on his forehead, and behind the woman were two young women and one young man. The girls she recognized. One of them was Martha, the bloke was probably her brother, and she reckoned the girl, the one who'd been with Martha near the ambulance, was their sister. They seemed to be having a go at each other with Martha caught in the middle looking weary.

"I'm never talking to your family again!" the blonde declared, whirling around and storming away in a huff.

"Annalise!" The man called.

"Oh, stay!" The black woman shouted. "Have a nice party, Clive!"

"Don't you dare!" The man, Clive, shouted after Annalise, "I'm putting my foot down."

"Make a fool of yourself!" The woman who must've been Martha's mother hollered at him.

"This is me putting my foot down!" But Clive ended up chasing after the blonde anyway. "Annaliese!"

"Dad!"

"GOD KNOWS YOU'VE BEEN DOING IT FOR THE LAST TWENTY-FIVE YEARS, WHY STOP NOW?!"

"Mum, don't!"

"Annalise, come back!"

"I asked the DJ and he's playing that song that you love!"

"Dad! Come on!"

The group scattered their own ways, leaving Martha alone on the sidewalk in front of the restaurant looking miserable and resigned. She looked around for a moment, as if deciding what the hell she should do now, but then she noticed Rose standing at the corner, arms folded, smiling lightly with her eyebrows raised. Martha tilted her head to the side. Rose's smile widened into a grin and she jerked her head the way she came and walked back down the sidewalk, grabbing the Doctor's arm as she passed him. The two of them retreated to the TARDIS as the sound of heels against concrete drew closer.

When Martha looked around the corner she couldn't help but grin as she saw the duo from the hospital leaning against a giant blue box with the words Police Public Call Box at the top. She sighed, smiling, and they smiled back. They both appeared calm and healthy like they all hadn't nearly died earlier, like it was just another ordinary day. The only evidence to the contrary was the bright pink cast on Rose's arm.

"I went to the moon today." She said, not seeing how they could be so relaxed about it. Her entire body was still thrumming with excitement.

"Bit more peaceful than down here." the Doctor said.

She started towards them. "You never even told me who you are."

"Sure we did." He replied. "The Doctor and Rose Tyler. 'S nothing more to it, really."

"But what sort of species? It's not every day I get to ask that."

"She's human, like I said." He nodded to Rose. "And I'm a Time Lord."

"Right," she made a face. "Not pompous at all then."

"Oh, not at all," Rose snickered.

The Doctor smiled. "Rose tells me that you saved my life earlier."

"Well, I guess so. But if she hadn't known about you having two hearts I wouldn't have—"

"But you still tried," Rose interrupted. She felt like she had to make Martha understand the enormity of what she'd done. Rose had given up, resigned herself to die beside the man she loved more than anything else in the universe, but Martha had seen a tiny shred of hope, seized it, and gave them all their lives back. "I thought it was already too late. If you hadn't tried, we'd all be dead. Everyone in that hospital."

"Everyone on this half of the planet, actually." The Doctor said. "Now how many people can say that?"

Martha smiled, embarrassed.

"Well, we just thought, since you saved my life and I've got a brand new sonic screwdriver which needs road-testing, you might fancy a trip."

"What, into space?" she asked doubtfully.

"Well."

"But I can't. I've got exams. I've got things to do. I have to go into town first thing and pay the rent. I've got my family going mad."

"It's alright to be scared, you know. I had to go find my mum, pay off my debts, and take care of my useless lump of a boyfriend." Rose told her. "I was afraid, too. I told him no."

Martha frowned. "But you're here now."

"Yeah, 'cause first time he asked, he forgot to mention one tiny little detail about our ship here."

The Doctor leaned forward, smiling. "It can travel in _time_."

Martha shook her head. "Get out of here."

"It can."

"Come on, now that is going too far."

"I'll prove it." The Doctor said. "Rose, do you fancy a bite to eat?"

"Uh, sure?" She frowned, confused, not seeing how food would help.

He pushed open the door for her and the two of them stepped inside. She closed the door behind her and he bounded towards the console. "Doctor, what are you—?"

"Remember what she said earlier?" he asked, fiddling with a dial. "She saw you on Chancellor this morning with chips. Can you think of a better way to prove we time travel?"

Rose grinned, "Oh, you're brilliant, you are."

The Doctor quickly set the TARDIS for this morning near the chippy on Chancellor street and dug out a fiver from his pocket, handing it to Rose. "Hurry up," he said. "Can't miss her or it's a paradox. She should be coming on the other side of the street in a few minutes."

"Are you coming?"

"Nah. She only saw you, not me."

"Don't you disappear," she warned playfully and Rose raced out of the TARDIS. She weaved expertly through the throngs of people who were blissfully unaware of the event about to take place at the nearby hospital in just a few hours.

She emerged from the chippy a few minutes later and munched on her favorite food while waited for Martha. She tried to go easy on them because apparently she had to offer some to Martha, but dammit she was hungry, and the delicious smell wafting up to her nose was not helping. Five minutes passed, Rose scanned the crowds of people heading towards the hospital intently, and then she spotted her nearing the corner, her hair pulled back the way it had been when they'd met, wearing a denim jacket much like the one Rose currently had on, with a cell phone pressed to her ear. Rose crossed the street quickly, careful not to spill the chips, and reached her just as she was closing her phone with a scoff.

"Want some chips?" She asked, holding up the carton to Martha.

The woman who would become her friend in a few hours blinked, completely baffled. "Uh…um…n-no thank you."

Rose shrugged. "Suit yourself."

She turned on her heel and walked away, leaving Martha staring after her in astonishment. Mission complete. Later that evening, the TARDIS rematerialized mere seconds after it vanished before Martha's incredulous eyes, and Rose emerged from the TARDIS, holding a cup of chips.

"Sure you don't want some chips?" she asked, holding out one. Martha gaped at her, realizing suddenly why Rose's outfit had looked so familiar a few minutes ago.

The Doctor poked his head out. "Told you."

Martha shook her head. "No but…that was this morning. But…did you? Oh my God, you can travel in time!" She breathed the last word, her eyes wide with amazement.

Rose grinned and popped the chip in her mouth. The Doctor reached over her shoulder and snatched a chip for himself, earning a light smack on the hand. "Hey, I paid for those!" He protested.

"But hold on—if you could see me this morning, why didn't you tell me not to go into work?" She asked.

Rose looked at her like she was mad. "You mean besides the fact that havin' you there saved half the bloody planet?"

"Crossing into established events is strictly forbidden." The Doctor deadpanned. "Except for chips."

Martha grinned at the pair, unable to believe what was standing right in front of her, and praying that it wasn't some insane dream. That this wasn't Oz and she'd wake up tomorrow back in her flat. "And that's your space ship?"

The Doctor nodded, stepping out of the doorway, and pulling it shut behind him. "It's called the TARDIS."

Martha took a few steps forward, reaching out to touch the big blue box. It looked like wood, it felt like wood, but what kind of spaceships were made of wood and shaped like phone boxes?

"Time And Relative Dimension In Space." Rose explained.

"Your space ship is made of wood." She stated and they just smiled at her. "There's not much room. Isn't it a bit intimate?"

"Oh, you think so?" The Doctor pushed open the door and stepped out of the way. "Take a look."

Rose walked around him, stepping into the TARDIS, and motioned for Martha to follow. She did and her eyes widened in wonder as she took in the giant console room with strange holes in the wall, a round control pane in the center surrounding a glowing green cylinder in the middle of the room, lights at the top, and coral-like structures supporting the whole thing. The TARDIS hummed a welcome.

The Doctor stepped inside behind her, sharing an amused look with Rose. "Welcome to the TARDIS." Rose said, sweeping her arms out wide.

"No, no, no, no." The smile faded from Martha's face and she retreated out the door. "But it's just a box!"

The Doctor rubbed his eye with a finger and, laughing, Rose asked, "Was I like that?"

He nodded. "Yep."

"But it's huge!" Martha reappeared in the doorway. "How does it do that?" She knocked on the side again to confirm, "It's wood. …It's like a box with that room just rammed in." She walked back inside and looked around again.

"More than just this room," Rose muttered.

"It's…it's…bigger on the inside!" She exclaimed and the Doctor, predicting this, mouthed along with her.

"Is it? I hadn't noticed." He said sarcastically and shut the door behind her. He pulled off his coat and tossed it unceremoniously onto the coral. He strode over to the console and immediately began preparing to take them into the Vortex.

"But, is there a crew, like a navigator and stuff? Where is everyone?"

"Just me and Rose," the Doctor said. "Sometimes we have guests. I mean, some friends, traveling alongside. But usually it's just us"

"I've been with him for about two years now," Rose smiled. "Best two years of my life. But we haven't had anyone else since…well, since my mate, Mickey, but that was a bit ago."

"Where's he now?" Martha asked, noting the pain in her voice.

Rose swallowed. "He lives in a parallel word, with my mum and my—Pete…and…their baby, by now, I s'pose." She looked down at the empty chip container in her hand then folded it as small as she could and shoved it her pocket to dispose of later.

"Why aren't you with them?"

Rose and the Doctor looked at each other simultaneously and Martha didn't miss the flurry of unasked questions and answers and emotions that passed between them before the Doctor turned back to the console and Rose looked at Martha again. "Someone's got to look after this idiot. He's completely hopeless without me."

"I'll have you know survived nine hundred years without your help."

"And every day I wonder how," she shot back.

Nine hundred years? Now they really had to be joking.

"Here we go!" He shouted, dancing around the TARDIS pressing buttons and flicking switches. "Close down the gravitic anomalizer… Rose, fire up the helmic regulator. The red one." Rose turned around and grabbed one of the many handles, turning it quickly. "And finally…" he paused for dramatic effect. "The hand brake."

He stepped around, grabbing onto the lever that would send them off. "Ready?" he asked Martha.

"No."

"Off we go." And he pulled the lever down. The TARDIS, annoyed at the Doctor's dramatics, made sure to give her occupants a good jolting as she took off. The three of them fell to the floor, or the pilot's seat in the Doctor's case. They quickly recovered, though, holding onto the console for support.

"It's a bit bumpy!" Martha noted over the engines.

The Doctor grinned. "Welcome aboard, Miss Jones!"

* * *

**Well, there's that, then. Now I gotta dash...things happening. Well, four things. Well, four things and a lizard.**

**Drop a review on the way out!**


	6. Telepathy and Time Travel

**First semester of college/university is officially over. Still can't believe it. Here's the shiny chapter! **

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When the jarring and shaking stopped, the Doctor stepped away from the console, looking pleased. "Now, then! Where do you want to go? We'll start with Earth, nothing too dangerous for your first go-round, I think. Past or future?"

Martha opened and closed her mouth like a fish for a few moments. "W-what? I have to pick?"

"Well, this is a thank-you gift. It's only fair you'd get to pick. Want to know the future of the Earth? Or is there something in the past you've always wished to see? All of Earth's past and future to choose from. Well," he amended, "as long as I don't risk bumping into myself. That isn't something you'd probably like to see."

"Why's that?" Rose asked curiously.

"We tend to argue. A lot." He scratched the back of his neck. "And, well, there's always a risk for a major paradox and the universe imploding. Though, I think I'm due to run into one of my past selves soon, actually…" he frowned, as if trying to remember something complex. "Ah, well, I'll remember it when it's time. So anyway! Past or future?"

Martha looked at Rose. "Where'd you pick for your first time?"

"Future," Rose said. "He wanted to impress me, took me to the actual end of the world."

"What, seriously?" Martha looked at the Doctor. "Your first date and you took her to watch the world die?"

"Yup," Rose said. "Sun expanded…Earth went boom. Better warn you now: he likes exploding things. First time I met him he blew up my job. Remember when 10 Downing Street blew up? That was him, too."

The Doctor cleared his throat. "Forgive me if I have to blow things up to save the world."

"What about that Christmas when all the people went to the roof?" Martha asked. "That ship blew up. Was that you, too?"

"No," the Doctor's mood darkened quicker than she would've believed possible. "That wasn't me. I'd convinced them to go in peace and never return. Torchwood blew them up anyway." He said the name with such venom, and Rose's expression darkened at it, so Martha figured it was a question best saved for later.

"And what about that shooting ship shaped like a star last Christmas?"

"Partially responsible, yes." Rose nodded.

"C'mon, now," the Doctor complained. "Past or future?"

"U-uh…um…I don't know! You pick!"

The Time Lord grinned. "As you wish, Miss Jones. Past it is, then!"

"Nowhere with dinosaurs." Rose said immediately.

"Rose," he sighed, "I told you—the ankylosaurus is an herbivore. It wasn't going to eat you."

"I don't care," she folded her arms. "It was big, it had teeth, it was lookin' at me, and it roared."

He sighed. "Can stare into the eyestalk of an angry Dalek but when faced with a docile dinosaur…"

"Shut up."

"Alright, I've set our course for anywhere before the year 2000 AD and after 2000 BC, with the exception of anywhere plague infested or in need of a young blonde sacrifice. We're in no hurry to repeat that particular incident."

"Thanks," Rose muttered.

Martha shook her head. "I've gone mad, haven't I?"

The Doctor pressed a few buttons on the console then frowned. "Hmm. There's something I need to adjust real quick before we land. Rose, why don't you take Martha to the wardrobe?"

Rose nodded. "Yep. C'mon, Martha."

Martha didn't move. "Wardrobe? You mean there's more than this?"

"Of course there is," the Doctor said as if it should have been obvious. "Do you think we eat and sleep in here? Well, we have a few times, but that's beside the point. There's hundreds of rooms inside this ship, most of them you'll never see, but if you're looking for something, you'll usually be able to find it."

Martha stared.

"Now, off you go. Oh, and should you happen to find the swimming pool, don't get in. I haven't gotten around to fixing the heater yet. Actually, if you find it, let me know where it is, would you? I haven't seen it for a few weeks."

"Swimming pool," she whispered.

Rose smiled at her sympathetically and motioned for her to come. "C'mon before he talks your ears off. Be back in a tick, Doctor!"

"Yeah, and where have I heard that before?" he grumbled.

"Shut up."

Martha followed Rose out of the console room into the hallway. The walls were a shade darker than beige and pieces of coral extended from the wall in several places, usually up to the ceiling; in other places, bits poked out at one part and went back in further down. The TARDIS hummed contently around them, inquiring in her own way about Martha. Apparently their new passenger was smart but not easily trusting, nor completely ready to believe everything her new friends were saying and would probably get upset when she learned that the TARDIS had already made a place in the back of Martha's mind.

Rose bit her lip, glancing at the older woman. She'd accepted the alien stuff straight away, but it was the fact that the TARDIS got into her head that angered her, and that the Doctor had forgot to mention that. If she was going to stick around for any length of time, there were things she had to know, things Rose wished had been explained to her.

"What do you think?" Rose asked.

"It's…just…I don't even…" She trailed off. "Do all these doors have rooms behind them?"

"Yep," Rose said, popping the 'p'. "Some bigger than others. But you never really know what you're gonna find. I'm pretty close to the TARDIS so she usually lets me know when I'm where I want to be, but if you decide to stay with us for a bit, you might need to put a marker on your door."

"'She?'"

"What?"

"You called the ship a 'she.' I know they call boats 'she' but you said it like…like it's actually a she."

"She is," Rose said. "The TARDIS isn't just a ship. She's alive. She thinks and feels, not exactly like we do, but she's not jus' a hunk of metal."

"Look, you both have said a lot of mad things since we've met, but this…" Martha shook her head. "A sentient ship?"

Rose said a few words that she knew in the dominant language on one of the several asteroid markets they'd been to. "What did I just say?" she asked in English.

Martha sighed. "You asked me how much for my necklace. It's not for sale."

"I wasn't speaking English," Rose said as they rounded another corner. She was beginning to think the TARDIS was purposefully prolonging their journey so she could talk Martha through the basics.

"Then how did I understand you?"

"The TARDIS translates for you." Rose said. "Anything you hear and read will be in English since that's the language you know the most, and it's the same for anyone who hears you speak. Except swear words, she doesn't translate those."

"How's that?"

"She's telepathic." Rose tapped her head. "I could be talking in an alien language right now and you wouldn't know. Don't worry," she added quickly, "she doesn't read your innermost thoughts or make you think anything you don't want to, I promise. I was worried about that in the beginning. But she can help you find things you want or need, or if you want privacy, she can make sure you're never found." She brushed her hands along a thick patch of coral along the wall. "Right now, we need the wardrobe, but she knows I need to explain this to you, so we could probably open every single door and never find it."

Martha stopped waking and put her hands over her mouth, closing her eyes. "This is…this is just…"

"Too much?" Rose asked sympathetically.

Martha shook her head, unsurely at first, then more vigorously. "No. I'm fine. I just need time to process this. I went to the moon today, I helped a bunch of rhinos kill a vampire, I saved the lives of billions of people, and now I'm on a ship that's bigger on the inside; that can travel in space and apparently time; that's telepathic and alive, with an alien and a human…who acts like it's the most ordinary thing in the world."

Rose tilted her head. "Do you want to go back?"

"What?"

"Do you want to go home? Because you can, you know: go back. He won't ever force you to stay if you really want to leave. If all of this is too much for you, we can go back in there right now and tell the Doctor to land us back in that alley, or even in your flat if you want. And you'll never see us again and your life will go back to the way it was."

Martha considered this, her face a bit sad, but otherwise smooth. "You said earlier, in the hospital, that you're used to that kind of stuff."

Rose nodded.

"Does…that happen often? I mean, is that a normal day?"

"Well, I've never had Judoon pull me to the moon, but with the Doctor, there's no more normal days."

"Is it…worth it?"

"Oh yes," Rose whispered, her eyes shining. "The universe is full of evil and ugliness, just like Earth, but it's also beautiful. So many places and people and things beyond anything you can imagine. I could live for as long as the Doctor and never see it all. I would rather die than give this up."

"And you fancying the Doctor has nothing to do with it?"

"Maybe," she smiled. "Just a bit."

Martha took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. "I'll give it a go," she decided. "I'm not sayin' I want to stay, but…I want to see this. I need to see this…or I'll always wonder, you know? A sentient ship, aliens, time travel…let's do it. "

Rose's smile broadened into a grin. "Well, come on, then. Let's go get changed."

As if on cue, the thick weaving of coral on the wall next to them shifted, twisting and sliding out of the way to reveal a simple door. Martha looked at Rose with wide eyes and Rose grinned back at her, tongue between her teeth, and inclined her head towards the door. Martha reached out and slowly turned the handle, pushed the door open, and stepped into the wardrobe.

There was a central platform that led to a narrow spiral staircase in the center of the room that led to the upper levels, as well as the ones below the platform. Clothes of all colors, sizes, and styles were hung from the many, many racks. It was like he'd stolen a bunch of costume rooms out of Hollywood or something and crammed the contents together.

"Oh my God," she breathed.

Rose walked past her to a coatrack where a big leather jacket hung. Martha couldn't see the blonde woman's face, but there was something solemn, almost wistful, about the way she reached out to touch it. She ran her fingertips along the back of it, her head cocked to the side.

"Whose is that?" Martha asked, stepping up behind her.

"It's the Doctor's," Rose murmured. "It's what he wore when I first met him…"

"Looks a bit big for him."

Rose smiled sadly. "He was a bit bigger then."

"How do you mean?"

She shook her head. "That's something he'll tell you on his own. He didn't even tell me about it until…well…" She licked her lips and bit her lower one, then she shook her head quickly and backed away from the leather jacket. "Right, let's get on with it."

"But," Martha looked around the room again. "How do we know what to choose from?"

Rose looked up at the ceiling expectantly then the lights on the left side of the third level flickered on and off. Rose pointed at it then dashed up the stairs.

A sentient ship that knew fashion. Oh, yes. She'd definitely gone mad. And, strangely, Martha Jones didn't care one bit.

Half an hour later, the Doctor leaned against the console, legs crossed, waiting impatiently for his companions to get back from the wardrobe. Humans—or, more specifically, human females—took ages to get ready.

He'd given up trying to drag Rose on an adventure first thing in the morning. She always had to wake up, then get dressed, fix her hair, put her makeup on, then go get her tea…took at least forty minutes. He'd taken to bringing her tea first thing if he wanted to go somewhere, just to speed things along. But she already had her tea and her makeup and she was wide-awake. By all accounts that should've cut the prep time by at least twenty-five minutes. Apparently not.

He exhaled loudly, his head falling back, and he resisted the urge to bang it against the rotor. He hated waiting. They'd learned early on that this body was not patient.

Can't you tell them to get a move on? He complained to his ship. But apparently she was on Rose's side again, because the rotor hummed once, short and curt, as close to a 'no' as he'd ever gotten from her.

He groaned in frustration.

Can you move the wardrobe door closer? He tried.

Sparks fizzed from the console near his hand and the Doctor jumped away, cradling his slightly singed hand protectively. "Oi!" he complained. "Stop it!"

He felt her amusement wash over him.

"Why can't you be on my side for once?"

Another wave of amusement.

He sighed and walked to the doorway that led deeper into the ship. "Ro-ose!" he called. "Martha! Hurry up! We're gonna be late!"

"Late for what?" Rose's voice came a moment later from not too far away. "We goin' somewhere particular?"

"No… not really…"

"Well, what's the rush, then?" She stepped around the corner and effectively robbed him of speech.

She was wearing a floor-length light brown dress, with a darker bodice that laced up the front, and sleeves that flared into bells at the elbow, all the way down to her hands, effectively hiding most of her cast. Around her neck was a simple black choker. Her hair was twisted into a single French braid in the back. The ensemble was simple, nothing about it screamed either nobility or peasantry, yet it flattered her curves in a way no simple commoner would dare. She was…Rose.

Rose was grinning, her tongue poking out, and a blush reddened her cheeks. "Doctor?"

"Huh?"

"You're doing it again."

"What?" he blinked. She inclined her head. "Oh. Oh, right! Sorry. You look beautiful."

She lifted up her skirts and poked her foot out, revealing a sturdy black boot instead of the appropriate footwear for the era. "Just in case," she said.

He grinned. "That's my girl. Where's Martha?" He craned his neck to peer over her shoulder. "Is she planning on making an appearance any time soon?"

"She was right behind me," Rose stepped around him into the console room, then lowered her voice. "I told her about the TARDIS bein' telepathic and all that."

He stuck his hands in his pockets. "Ooh. How'd she take it?"

"Could've been worse. It was a bit much for her, though."

"She want to go home?"

"Not yet. She wants proof before she makes any decisions."

"What, and the TARDIS wasn't enough?" He muttered. "Oh, here she is!"

"Okay, I'm coming in!" Martha stepped into the console room looking decidedly embarrassed. She had on a long-sleeved deep red dress with a white undershirt visible beneath the bodice. "Don't laugh!"

"Now where have I heard that before?" the Doctor grinned at Rose. "Don't worry, Martha, you look amazing. Really."

"It's not too much?" she turned from side to side, looking down at herself.

"I told you, you look fine." Rose said. "So, we landed yet?"

"Nope!" The Doctor danced over to the console. "But we will now! You ready?" He gripped the lever that would send them through the Vortex. Martha's eyes widened. "Hold on—here we go! Allons-y!" he shouted and pulled the lever down.

The TARDIS gave a violent lurch and Martha screamed as she was knocked to the floor. Rose managed to steady herself on the console but didn't dare let go to help Martha up. Loudly declaring that the Doctor was mad and that the bloody ship was determined to knock her about, Martha struggled to her feet by holding onto the railing and somehow managed to not bust her chin open.

The Doctor practically climbed onto the console to press multiple buttons at once. "Rose! That small lever, push it up, then press the middle button over there." Rose did, moving around the console with ease despite the bucking of the ship. "Hold on!"

"I AM!" Martha screamed.

With one final jerk, the Doctor was thrown off the console, catching himself on a coral, Rose landed back in the seat, and Martha very nearly fell, but she managed to stay upright, gripping the railing for dear life. The Doctor pushed himself up, grinning happily, and offered a hand to Rose.

"Blimey!" Martha gasped, letting go of the rail. "Do you have to pass a test to fly this thing?"

"Yep, and I failed." The Doctor said cheerfully, pulling on his coat.

"Aren't you gonna change?" Martha hitched up her skirt and ran across the console room.

"Why? What's wrong with my suit?" He stopped in front of the door and turned to face them: "Ladies, outside this door…brave new world."

"Where are we?"

"Take a look." The Doctor opened the door and inclined his head. "Ladies first."

"First timers privilege," Rose stepped aside and motioned for Martha to go before her. Martha bit her lip, glancing at Rose with an eager grin, then walked past the two time travelers and stepped out of the TARDIS. She didn't look at the ground or take a tentative step like Rose did, possibly because she didn't quite believe in the whole time travel thing just yet, but when she made it outside she took a few steps and froze. The Doctor and Rose followed her out.

Rose breathed in and her nose flared at the smell of animals, unwashed bodies, mud, waste, and other things she didn't want to think about. But over that she could smell the warm night air, the aroma of baking food, and something she could never quite describe but had always considered it to be the smell of Earth. No other planet had that scent, though New Earth was close.

A group of children with dirty faces ran past. Teenagers and adults milled about, talking or completing tasks for the evening. Wagons, barrels, hay, and the occasional stall were situated in front of the double-story houses that lined the street, which was lit by torches along the walls.

"Oh you're kidding me. You are so kidding me. Oh, my God!" Martha exclaimed. "We did it! We traveled in time."

"Of course we did," the Doctor said. "Come on, Martha, do you think we'd go through the trouble of getting you all pretty just to drop you back in the twenty-first century?"

Martha didn't answer him, still gazing around in disbelief. "Where are we? No, sorry," she held up her hand. "Got to get used to this whole new language. When are we?"

The Doctor started and grabbed both girls' arms, pulling them back. "Mind out!" he warned just as someone above them hollered something that sounded suspiciously like 'loo' and a bucketful of waste was dumped onto the spot they'd been standing just seconds ago.

"Somewhere…before the invention of the toilet," the Doctor said, nose wrinkled. "Sorry about that."

Martha waved it off. "I've seen worse. I've worked the late-night shift, A&E."

The Doctor grinned, looping his arm through Rose's, and they started off. Martha reached out. "Wait! Are we safe? I mean, can we move around and stuff?"

"Of course we can," the Doctor assured her. "Why do you ask?"

Martha gave him a look. "It's like in the films. You step on a butterfly, you change the future of the human race."

"I'll tell you what, then, don't…step on any butterflies. What have butterflies ever done to you?"

"Oh, stop," Rose chided. He smiled, unabashed, and started off again. This time Martha followed, but she wasn't done yet.

"But what if—I don't know. What if I kill my grandfather?"

The Doctor turned. "Are you planning to?"

She laughed. "No."

"Well then." He held his other arm out and she took it. They continued along the street, looking around at the people and buildings. Out of the TARDIS's perception filter, people began to notice them. Some nodded, some tipped their hats respectfully, and everyone was careful to get out of their way. Nice clothes tended to have that effect on the locals.

"And this is London?" Martha asked.

"I think so." The Doctor craned his neck, looking for any identifiable landmarks that would give him a clue.

Rose grinned cheekily. "Which probably means we're somewhere like Naples."

"Oi! My driving is not that bad," he protested.

"Our landing says otherwise," Martha grumbled. "And you failed your test, which means your driving is bad."

"That was well over seven hundred years ago. I've gotten a lot better since then."

"Oh then, I'm really glad I didn't meet you until now."

"Martha Jones, I'd like to see you try flying a ship meant to have six pilots on your own—with the occasional help." He nodded to Rose.

"No thanks," she grumbled.

"What year are we in?" Rose asked. "Or do I need to go find a newspaper?"

"Well, judging from the architecture and the local decorum," he glanced down at Rose. "And what the TARDIS showed you to wear…I'd say right about, um, ooh, 1599. Feels like 1599, too."

"Oh, but hold on. Am I all right? I'm not gonna get carted off as a slave, am I?" Martha asked.

The Doctor looked dumbstruck. "Why would they do that?"

"Not exactly white, in case you haven't noticed."

"I'm not even human." He pointed out. "Just walk about like you own the place. Always works for me."

Rose leaned forward so Martha could see her. "Plus, you look like a proper Lady. They won't dare touch you."

"Besides," the Doctor said, "Apart from some obvious things, Elizabethan England, not so different from your time. Look over there." He inclined his head at a man behind them shoveling manure. "You've got recycling."

Martha wrinkled her nose a bit.

"A water cooler moment," he nodded at two men talking around a water barrel.

"—in poison, and the trumpets will sound, heralding the Kingdom of God!" A man in black turned this way and that, one hand in the air, preaching to everyone that passed. He angled his body so he was facing the Doctor, Rose, and Martha. "And the Earth will be consumed by flame!" He cried.

The Doctor laughed once, "Global warming." The moved on, leaving the preacher with a stunned look on his face.

"Oh yes, and…entertainment!" He grinned. "Popular entertainment for the masses! …If I'm right, we're just down the river by Southwark…" He picked up speed, forcing the girls to run to keep up with him. "Right next to—!"

They rounded a corner and stopped, the Doctor with an excited grin on his face. "Oh yes! The Globe Theatre!" He said with relish. "Brand new, just opened. Though, strictly speaking, it's not a globe; it's a tetradecagon, fourteen sides, containing the man himself!"

"Whoa you don't mean…" Martha looked at him, eyes and mouth stretched wide. "Is Shakespeare in there?"

"Oh, yes!" He exclaimed. "You met him once, Rose. Remember?"

She laughed once, exasperated. "How could I _forget_?"

He grinned at her. "Ah, good one. Well, Miss Tyler, Miss Jones, would you lovely ladies accompany me to the theater?"

"I do believe I will, Mr. Smith." Rose said, tongue between her teeth. She leaned her head against his shoulder contently for a moment.

"And just think, Martha, when you get back, you can tell everyone you've seen Shakespeare."

Martha nodded. "Ooh, yeah. Then I could get sectioned!"

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**Review. Don't make me beg, darling, I won't do it! ****...Please? :D **


	7. The Wordsmith

**It's cold here. But we have no snow. I am displeased. **

**That is all.**

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Rose had been to the Globe Theatre before. Once with the Doctor in his last body, once with him in his current body when they'd shown up to help put out the fire that would consume the building in a decade or so. It was unlike any other theatre she'd been in—and she'd been in many, many theatres, all across time and space. There was something…magical about it.

The Doctor had fished out enough money for the three of them out of his pockets (though why he had money from the 1500s in his pockets was anyone's guess) and they got to sit in one of the balconies reserved for the nobles. They'd been given comfortable seats with cushions and a great view, over the heads of the lower class citizens who stood in front of the stage. It wasn't a bad deal, really, having to stand when the cost of admission was only a penny, but Rose preferred to sit through a play that would last for more than two hours, thank you very much.

Tonight would feature Love's Labour's Lost. Rose knew absolutely nothing about it other than it was a comedy, and she only knew that bit because the Doctor prattled about it all the way upstairs. He'd tried to convince her to read all of Shakespeare's works at one point, but Rose hadn't been able to make heads or tales of Romeo and Juliet while she was in school and she doubted she'd fair better with his other plays. The Doctor offered to read them to her and explain, but Rose knew enough about Romeo and Juliet to know that having the Doctor read it to her would be embarrassing. She'd suggested he find her some Shakespeare-to-modern translation copies of the plays, but he'd found the very idea scandalous. So Rose was left with a very poor knowledge of Shakespeare and the details of his works.

The same could not be said for Martha. She was not on the same level as the Doctor, but from what Rose could gather, she'd been able to make sense of Shakespeare's complicated language enough to enjoy what she'd read and to have a legitimate conversation with him.

The Doctor was grinning like a kid at Christmas and Martha was lost in a daze of awe, both of them watching the play with wide eyes. Rose, however, couldn't focus on the play for more than a few minutes at a time. There was something about the theatre that did not feel right. She'd never sensed anything wrong the other times she'd been here, but right now, the air positively tingled with an unknown energy that made Rose unable to relax. The Doctor was too absorbed in the play to notice her restlessness and Martha didn't say anything because, for all she knew, Rose was simply bored.

Near the end, the energy spiked and Rose felt a sense of dread that she hadn't felt since Krop Tor, when the Beast had predicted her imminent death—which had yet to occur and Rose was beginning to think it really had lied. Abandoning her attempts at watching the play altogether, Rose scoured the theater with her eyes, noting every little thing and every person. Her eyes were drawn to a young lady sitting alone in the only empty box, dressed in fine clothes and jewelry fit for someone in Kensington Palace. She appeared docile and from what Rose could tell, she was beautiful. She was staring down at the stage with a patient, almost expectant expression.

Just some rich lady, probably with more airs than a lotto winner, she thought dismissively. Still, Rose found herself glancing back at the woman every few moments, not wanting to take her eyes off her.

When the play was finished, the actors came onto stage for their bows, and the entire audience stood, clapping and cheering, hooting and whistling—Rose among them, even though she'd missed half the play. Martha was positively beaming as she applauded.

"That's amazing! Just amazing. It's worth putting up with the smell." She exclaimed over the din. "And those are men dressed as women, yeah?"

"London never changes," the Doctor replied.

Rose glanced at the woman again. She was the only one not on her feet and applauding. She simply stared at the stage.

"Where's Shakespeare? I wanna see Shakespeare." Martha complained—then had an idea and lifted her fist into the air, shouting, "Author! Author!"

Rose tore her gaze away from the woman to stare at Martha and the Doctor stared as well.

"Do people shout that?" Martha asked awkwardly. "Do they shout 'author'?"

"Author! Author!" Someone down below echoed Martha's chant, then others followed, until the whole theater was calling for Shakespeare.

"Well…they do now," the Doctor said.

Then the curtain to backstage parted and outstepped the Bard himself. He gave a showy leap as he passed between two actors, and landed with an arm in the air. The crowd went wild, applauding louder than before. Martha gave a little hop of glee.

He walked up and down the stage, smiling, bowing, blowing kisses at his public, and leaning down to slap the hands in the front row like some sort of rock star.

"He's a bit different to his portraits," Martha noted.

"Good ol' Will," the Doctor said to himself.

Rose wished she could share their enthusiasm, but she'd already met him and she'd had to distract him by flirting—which kind of made seeing him on stage less appealing than it should have been—and she was growing ever more concerned about that woman.

"Genius," the Doctor leaned towards Rose. "He's a genius. He's the genius! The most human-human that's ever been. Now we're gonna hear him speak!" Rose nodded, trying and failing to seem interested, but again the Doctor didn't notice. "Always, he chooses the best words. New, beautiful, brilliant words."

At that moment, William Shakespeare decided to crush the Doctor's excitement by hollering, "Aaaah, shut your big fat mouths!" And while the audience roared with laughter, the Doctor's face fell.

"Oh, well," he muttered.

"You should never meet your heroes." Martha told him.

"You have excellent taste! I'll give you that." Shakespeare told the audience, then pointed to a man in the crowd. "Oh, that's a wig!" The people around the man turned to look, pointing and laughing. Martha leaned forward to get a look.

The energy in the air suddenly seemed to crackle, causing hair on the back of Rose's neck to stand straight up and her stomach to flip over. She looked at that woman again. She had a smug look her face.

"Doctor…" Rose breathed. He didn't hear her over Shakespeare.

"It just stops!" Shakespeare was saying. "Will the boys get the girls? Well, don't get your hose in a tangle, you'll find out soon." The crowd voiced their approval. "Yeah, yeah, all in good time. You don't rush a genius." He told them with a bow.

Two things happened simultaneously: the weird energy in the air reached a new high, hitting Rose like a punch in the gut, and Shakespeare jerked upright like a puppet on strings. A hush fell over the crowd, except for a few chuckles, as if everyone could, somewhere in the back of their minds, suddenly sense the strangeness that had Rose ready to throw up or vault herself over the heads and rails between her and the woman who she knew was the cause of it.

She was quivering with tension and, finally, the Doctor noticed. "Rose?" he asked quietly. "Rose, what is it?"

"Something's—"

"When? …Tomorrow night!" Shakespeare declared loudly and the crowd cheered. On stage several of the actors exchanged looks that betrayed their surprise and exasperation.

But Rose's eyes were on the woman who was positively smirking now.

"The premiere of my brand new play," the Bard declared loudly. "A sequel, no less, and I call it Loves Labour's Won!"

The whole theater burst into another round of cheering, except for two people: the Doctor and Rose. The woman was clapping now, pleased, and Rose felt like someone had dropped lead into her stomach.

Rose spent the entire time they were exiting the theater looking for the woman, but it was like she had vanished into thin air. The thought didn't settle well. She wanted to tell the Doctor, but he was absorbed in a conversation with Martha about Loves Labour's Won and something about it being a lost play. Martha suggested they try to record it and make a mint back home.

"Don't get a brain door," Rose muttered.

Martha looked at the Doctor for translation.

"She means to say 'avoid temptation' and she's right. It's a bad idea, Martha. You could seriously mess up the timelines. There has got to be a reason the play is lost. …Damn. I was hoping to give you a nice, peaceful trip, but I suppose we could stay a bit longer. Is that alright with you, Rose?"

NO! She wanted to get out of here and away from the mysterious energy of the Globe, the woman, and the sinister feeling creeping along her skin. But it all reeked of mystery and danger, the kind of thing the Doctor loved sorting, and if they left now things would probably end badly somewhere along the line.

So she smiled at him. "Yeah, sure. So what's first?"

"First…" the Doctor looked around. "We go find Shakespeare."

"Oh yeah, sure, let's just do that." Martha rolled her eyes. "This is London, for God's sake! How are we supposed to find one person in a city this big, even if he is a famous bloke?"

"Remember, we're in 1599," the Doctor replied. "This isn't so much a city as it is a town. And Shakespeare isn't just a famous bloke: he's the famous bloke. You'd have an easier time finding him than you would the Queen if she was out for a stroll."

Martha looked at him doubtfully.

"No, really," he frowned. "Watch, I'll show you. Excuse me! You sir!"

As it turned out, the Doctor was correct. He'd only had to ask three people if they'd seen Shakespeare or knew where he was staying before they were directed to The Elephant Inn, a fine establishment run by a reputable woman named Dolly Bailey. It was easy enough to find: Dolly was well known around the area, and they were warned that if they were lookin' to cause a fuss, she'd have them tossed out on their backsides straight away. The Doctor didn't seem too concerned, and Rose and Martha had to hitch up their skirts to keep pace with him once he got moving.

He slowed outside of the in, taking a moment to let the two humans catch their breath and smooth their hair.

"Rose, I've told you about me an' Shakespeare, yeah?"

She nodded. "A bit. You helped write Hamlet or somethin' like that?"

Martha gawked. "You're kiddin'…"

"Nope. It was a long while ago for me…long while…" he murmured, his eyes staring at something only he could see. He gave his head a quick shake. "A long time for me, but it hasn't happened for him yet, not for about four more years, so not a word about it. And Martha? This should go without saying, but you cannot tell him anything about his future, and try to avoid mentioning I'm an alien and that you're from the future, if you can."

Martha nodded, trying to look serious, but her lips were twitching. "Yes sir."

The Doctor grinned, hold his arm out to Rose. "Well then. Shall we?"

They approached a young woman with dark hair who was near the stables, helping a man unload a horse. She saw them coming and curtseyed respectfully.

"'ello sir, ma'am, ma'am," she smiled. "What can I help you with?"

"Hello," the Doctor said brightly. "I was told Mr. Shakespeare is staying here, is that right?"

The girl nodded. "Yes, sir. He's just up the stairs, I think. Oh, but wait! You can't—he doesn't want visitors!" She called after them but they ignored her.

Upstairs, they encountered a firm-looking blonde woman with a broom in her hands. She blocked their path, hands on her hips.

"Patrons only," she informed them. "If you're wantin' to stay the night, come on downstairs and I'll get you signed and you can pay your fee."

"Actually, I'm looking for Shakespeare," the Doctor said, stepping forward. "I was told he's up here."

The woman's glanced to the left quickly, almost back the way she'd come from, then she frowned at them. "And who told you that?"

"That room there?" The Doctor pointed to an open door at the end of the hallway but didn't wait for her response. "Thank you!" He took off, leaving Dolly Bailey staring in disbelief. Rose and Martha followed him, the latter giving the woman an apologetic look. Dolly set her broom against the wall and followed.

The Doctor was already in the room, and the girls followed him in. "I'm not interrupting, am I? Mr. Shakespeare, isn't it?"

"Oh no." Shakespeare put his hand on his forehead. "No, no, no, no. Who let you in?"

The Doctor kept right on grinning. Martha hid behind him, suddenly shy. The rest of Shakespeare's words were lost on Rose, who had noticed a young maid working near the bed. Every hair on her body suddenly stood on end and adrenaline shot through her veins. Wrong, wrong, wrong. Shouldn't exist. Dangerous. That wicked energy she'd sensed earlier—the girl was practically radiating it.

Their gazes met. Rose clenched her teeth together so hard that her head hurt and her hands curled into fists. Something in the girl's face changed and for a moment, she was hideous, her face wrinkled and her teeth sharp, and Rose felt like she was seeing her for what she actually was. And then it was gone, the girl looked human again. Her face remained cold, dangerous, but there was something almost wary in her gaze as she regarded Rose. Neither of them seemed to be willing to look away from the other.

"Excuse us, ma'am."

Rose jumped, ending the standoff, then stepped forward so the two men who'd been seated with Shakespeare could exit the room, followed by Dolly Bailey. Martha was already taking a seat and the Doctor remained standing behind the empty chair, watching Rose. She noted the concern in his gaze as he nodded towards the chair. She smiled at him but glanced meaningfully at the maid who had used Rose's distraction to slip away from them, closer to the wall. The Doctor frowned, looking questioningly at Rose.

He didn't sense it, then. Was she going mad? No, she was sure she'd seen the girl change.

The Doctor looked down at Martha. "Don't," he said quietly. "Don't do that."

Martha looked embarrassed and stopped whatever it was she'd been doing. Rose seated herself in the chair and smiled at Shakespeare. The Bard narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. "Have we met? I have the strangest feeling that I've seen you before."

"No," Rose said quickly. "No, I don't think so. I'm sure I'd remember meetin' you, Mr. Shakespeare."

He smiled. "You keep fine company, mister—"

The Doctor flashed his psychic paper. "Sir. Sir Doctor of the TARDIS. This is my wife, Dame Rose Tyler, and our companion, Martha Jones."

"Interesting," mused Shakespeare, pointing. "That bit of paper. It's blank."

He lowered the paper, grinning gleefully. "Oh, that's…very clever," he murmured. "That proves it. Absolute genius."

"No," Martha said, peering at the paper. "It says so, right there. Sir Doctor, Dame Rose, Martha Jones. It says so."

"And I say it's blank." Shakespeare tilted his head, studying the trio before him.

"Psychic paper," the Doctor explained quietly to Martha. "Um, long story. Oh, I hate starting from scratch."

"Psychic?" Shakespeare put his hand under his chin. "Never heard that before and words are my trade. Who are you exactly? More's to the point, who is your delicious blackamoor lady?"

Rose barely held back a snort, pressing her lips together to hide her grin, and Martha looked taken aback.

"What did you say?"

"Oops. Isn't that a word we use nowadays? An Ethiop girl?" Shakespeare asked. The Doctor puffed out his cheeks, exhaling slowly, and Rose pressed her lips together to stave off a laugh as Shakespeare tried again. "A swarth? A queen of Afric…"

"I can't believe I'm hearing this!" Martha laughed.

The Doctor rubbed his eyes. "It's political correctness gone mad. Um, Martha and Rose are from a far-off land. …Freedonia. I met them on my travels. This is Martha's first time away, she's—"

"Excuse me! Hold hard a moment!" A man said loudly. A ginger man in rich black and gold jewels stood in the doorway, glaring at Shakepseare. "This is abominable behavior. A new play with no warning? I demand to see a script, Mr. Shakespeare. As Master of the Revels, every new script must be registered at my office and examined by me before performed."

Shakespeare nodded. "Tomorrow morning, first thing, I'll send it 'round."

"I don't work to your schedule, you work to mine. The script, now!" The man demanded.

"I can't."

"Then tomorrow's performance is cancelled."

The bad feeling faded quite suddenly and Rose noticed that the girl had slipped out of the room. She wasn't sure whether to be glad or worried, yet she couldn't help but slump against the back of the chair in relief.

Martha was looking between the two men. "It's all go, 'round here, isn't it?"

"I'm returning to my office for a banning order. If it's the last thing I do, Love's Labours Won will never be played!" The ginger man declared and stormed away, leaving silence in his wake.

"Nice bloke," Rose remarked after a moment.

"Lynley," Shakespeare said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'm sorry you had to witness that. Dolly!" he called. "Dolly Bailey!"

She appeared a moment later in the doorway with a tray in her hands. "Is something the matter, Will?"

"Could we have another round of—oh!" Will straightened up. "I was just about to ask."

She smiled, holding the tray between the three time travelers. They each took a mug and she placed the abandoned mugs left by Shakespeare's associates. "If you need anything, just holler. Sir, there's a chair right there if you require one."

Rose took a sip. It was thick and heady, like cider, but not quite. Still, it was better than some of the other drinks she'd had during her travels.

Martha took a sip, leaning back in her chair and resting her leg on her knee, completely unladylike. "Well, then…mystery solved. That's Love's Labours Won over and done with."

Rose's entire body stiffened as she felt it again, so thick she was surprised no one could see it, or at least feel it. It hit her like a punch to the gut and she choked on the cider in her mouth, dropping her mug to the floor as she doubled over. She managed to swallow the liquid in her mouth and then she gasped, gulping down breaths of air, feeling very much like she was about to be sick.

"Rose!" That was the Doctor in front of her, his hands on her shoulders and his eyes wide and afraid. "Rose, what's wrong?"

Before she got a chance to answer, from outside came a single, guttural scream. Shrieks and cries split the peaceful night air, cries for help. Everyone surged to their feet, except for Rose, who was shaking. Shakespeare was already moving for the door and Martha followed without hesitation. The Doctor knelt in front of Rose again. "Can you stand?"

Rose nodded, still trembling and nauseous, rising to her feet. He put his arm around her for support and ushered her quickly out the door. The feeling only grew worse as they descended the stairs to the courtyard. The man, Lynley, was stumbling back towards them, holding his throat and spitting up water.

"Doctor!" Martha cried. "Look!"

"What's wrong with him?" he wondered aloud. "Rose, try to keep upright, I need to have a look, alright?"

Rose nodded, her arms crossed over her stomach. She curled inward slightly, leaning away from the man.

"Leave it to me!" the Doctor shouted to the people gathering and loped to Lynley's side. Martha followed. "I'm a doctor!"

"So am I—near enough."

They caught Lynley as he sagged forward. "H-h-help!" he gurgled through the water he was spewing. He jolted as if he'd been struck, mouth gaping and eyes wide. The dark energy spiked and Rose dropped onto her knees, her stomach heaving.

Then with one final cry and spurt of water, Lynley's legs gave out and he collapsed to the ground.

Rose gasped loudly as the feelings faded, gone as if they had never occurred. She sucked in a sharp breath and felt Dolly Baily's hand on her arm to help her up. The Doctor was staring down the street the way Lynley had come from, Martha was bending over the man, trying to reassure him. The Doctor stopped her before she could do CPR, though. Rose thanked Dolly with a weak but genuine smile and joined Martha and the Doctor by Lynley's body, kneeling at his head.

"I've never seen a death like it," the Doctor murmured. "His lungs are full of water—he drowned and then… I dunno, like a blow to the heart, an invisible blow." The Doctor looked at Rose. "Are you alright?"

"Y-yes…now…it—it stopped when he died." And she felt horrible because for a brief moment, she'd been happy—relieved—when Lynley had finally keeled.

The look the Doctor gave her was piercing and she saw the wheels turning in his head. His eyes lingered on her as he stood, looking away only to address Dolly Bailey. "Good mistress, this poor fellow has died from a sudden imbalance of the humours. A natural if unfortunate demise. Call a constable and have him taken away. "

"Yes, sir," Dolly said, disturbed.

She's back. Rose turned her head and, sure enough, the servant girl was there. From a distance, Rose noted how much she resembled the woman in the theater, except for the clothes. But Rose herself was proof that clothes did not always prove one's status and one could easily disguise themselves if needed.

"I'll do it, ma'am," she told Dolly dutifully. The girl's eyes flicked down to their group, lingering on Rose who was glowering at her. She gave Rose a cold smirk, almost challenging her, then turned and left, taking the uneasy air with her.

"And why did you tell them that?" Martha demanded when the Doctor knelt down again.

"This lot still have one foot in the Dark Ages," he explained. "If I tell them the truth, they'll panic and think it was witchcraft."

"Wasn't it?" Rose asked. After all she'd seen with the Doctor, witchcraft wasn't high on the list of impossible things.

He looked up at Rose darkly. "Oh, yes. And you, you sensed it. How?"

She shook her head. "I…I don't—" she closed her eyes "—I don't know."

But she had a sinking feeling that she actually did.

Shakespeare led their procession back up to his room. The Doctor kept an arm around Rose protectively, but she was feeling fine now. The air was free of…witchcraft. Part of her felt like skipping, but that would be inappropriate considering what had just happened. The rest of her, however, was terrified. The Doctor knew something was different about her now and he wouldn't let it go. Her only hope was that she could hold off the truth until they got safely into the TARDIS, far away from any timelines he could damage.

"I got you a room, Sir Doctor," Dolly Bailey said from the doorway. "You, your wife, and Miss Jones are just across the landing on the left. It's the only one with two beds in here. Ladies, I noticed you didn't have any belongings with you so I left you a pair of gowns out. Might be a bit big, but they'll do."

Rose smiled. "Thank you, ma'am."

Dolly Bailey smiled as well. "My pleasure. Just leave 'em on the bed in the mornin'." She cast a concerned gaze over the room, her eyes lingering on Shakespeare, and she left the way she came.

"Poor Lynley," Shakespeare said, though he didn't actually sound very sorry. "So many strange events. Not least of all, this land of Freedonia where a woman can be a doctor?"

"Where a woman can do what she likes." Martha corrected.

"And you, Sir Doctor. How can a man so young have eyes so old?"

"I do a lot of reading," he answered quietly.

"A trite reply," Shakespeare nodded and the Doctor smiled just a bit. "Yeah, that's what I'd do." He looked at Rose. "And you, Dame Rose… Never mind the fact that I know I have seen you before—you knew something was wrong. You knew…before he even screamed."

"I…I didn't," she stammered, shaking her head quickly. "I just—I just choked. On the cider. I d—I didn't know." She felt silent, staring at the floor.

Shakespeare just looked at her, considering, and then turned to Martha. "And you, Miss Jones, you look at them like you're surprised they exist. They're as much of a puzzle to you as they are to me."

The three of them exchanged nervous glances. Shakespeare was a genius, there was no arguing that, but the fact that he had managed to discern that much about them within the span of a few minutes was a bit frightening, to Martha more than any of them.

"I think we should say goodnight," she said quickly and left the room quickly without looking back. Rose tried to follow her, but the Doctor's arm was locked around her and he wasn't leaving yet. So, apparently, neither was she. She shot him an angry look.

"I must work," Shakespeare sighed. "I have a play to complete." He got to his feet, walking around the table as he spoke. "But I'll get my answers tomorrow, Doctor."

The Doctor shrugged off the bookshelf he'd been leaning against, pulling Rose with him towards the door.

"I'll discover more about you both, and why this constant performance of yours, Sir."

"All the world's a stage," the Doctor replied from the doorway.

"Ooh…I might use that," he mused. "Good night, Doctor. Rose."

"Nighty-night, Shakespeare."

* * *

**Drop a review on the way out. People are more inclined to click on stories if they see a high review count - especially for things as tricky as season rewrites. Lots of reviews means the author must be doing something right. ...Am I not doing something right? ;~;**


	8. Witchcraft

**Since not all of you have me on AA, I should probably mention that I've got a Christmas story in this verse that I'm working on posting. I should have it all up by New Years. You can find it on my profile, it's called _A Christmas Star_ and it's based off The Runaway Bride.**

**I hope you all had a very nice Christmas and for those of you who got hit with the same snow we did, have fun in it and drive safely! And remember: If your city/local news has said _emergency travel only - _AN AFTER CHRISTMAS BLOWOUT SALE IS NOT AN EMERGENCY. Unless you're going sledding, then get your hinies out there!**

**And for those of you wondering what the hell is going on with Rose (which is like all of you), you're going to start getting your answers. **

* * *

Martha was already exploring when the Doctor and Rose arrived, searching the cabinet on the far wall with a candle for light. The room was less furnished than Shakespeare's. At least there were two beds, though, because she doubted the three of them could cram into one. Which begged the question: where did they sleep on the TARDIS? She'd have to ask later, especially if she stayed.

"Not exactly five-star, is it?"

"Oh, it'll do," the Doctor said dismissively. Rose slipped out from under his arm and headed for the beds. "We've stayed in worse."

"I guess these would be the nightgowns." Rose held up two long, frumpy white garments that had been laid out across the bed when Martha walked in. "They look the same size, so I guess it doesn't matter. Do you know how to get out of that?" She nodded at the dress.

"Um, not really, no."

"Thought not. I'll help."

"What about…?" Martha nodded at the Doctor.

"Oh, right." He held up a hand and backed towards the door. "I'll just be outside."

When he was gone, Martha laughed quietly. "You two seem to have this whole thing down."

"We've been travelling for a while," Rose said simply. "He left for your sake. Normally he just looks away if I have to change. Now, hold still so I can do this."

Martha held still while Rose's fingers expertly unlaced the bodice, then she turned right around and did hers on her own. Martha was impressed, especially since Rose's wrist was broken. The Doctor must've done something to speed the healing process or Rose wouldn't be able to move her hand that well this early on.

"You're from London, right?" she asked as Rose worked.

She nodded. "Of course."

"Well, I had to check. The Doctor sounds like he's a Londoner, too."

"He used to sound like he was from the North," Rose said as she slipped the bodice off.

Martha's brow furrowed in confusion, but she decided to let that go, filing it away for later with a multitude of other questions, and asked another one that had been bugging her. "So…_when_ are you from? I mean…from the past? Future?"

"Well…" Rose said slowly. "That depends on how you want to look at things. From right now where we're standin', I'm from the future. But from when we picked you up, I'm from the past."

"Oh." Martha frowned. "Well, what year?"

"Again, depends on how you look at things." Rose said. "But if it helps, I joined the Doctor in the beginning of 2005."

"So, you're from the present?"

She was fiddling with her hair, pulling the pins out of it and untwisting the braid. She shook her hair out, combing through the wavy strands with her fingers. When she was done, she stared at Martha with her arms folded, frowning like she was trying to work out something complex. "If you wanna think of it that way," she finally conceded.

Rose opened the door once they were dressed and the Doctor sauntered back in, looking completely at ease. Before Martha could open her mouth to ask who would be going where, he flopped down onto one of the beds, leaning against the headboard. Rose sat down on the bed with the Doctor and he scooted over to make room for her without hesitating. She stretched out next to him and he put his arm around her. The gesture seemed almost automatic, as did the way Rose leaned closer.

Martha felt something within her soften at the sight. She hadn't known them for more than a day but already she could tell how they felt about each other, even if they weren't saying it out loud. You'd have to be blind not to notice. Though she wondered how Rose could love someone who wasn't even her species and was (apparently) hundreds of years older than her.

_Then again, love is blind_, she thought.

"So, Doctor, witchcraft?" Rose asked.

He didn't seem to be in his usual chatty mood because he simply nodded.

"That's a surprise. I wasn't expecting magic and stuff," Martha laughed. "It's a little bit Harry Potter, don't you think?"

The Doctor grinned. "Wait 'til you read book seven. Oooh…I cried." He shook his head fondly.

"He did." Rose laughed. "It was funny. I walked into the library one day, found him sittin' on the couch an' he looked up at me an' he had tears just rollin' down his cheeks! Him!"

"So did you!" he protested. "You were practically bawling!"

"Yeah, but which one of us is the almighty Time Lord? Besides, that thing with Snape and Lily was just—"

"Oi! Shut up!" Martha put her hands over her ears. "Don't. Say. Anything. I mean it! Not a word!"

"Sorry," Rose apologized, but she didn't look very sorry at all.

Martha glowered at them for a moment then lowered her hands. "But…is it real, though? I mean—witches, black magic, and all that. It's real?"

The Doctor made a face. "'Course it isn't!" he said patronizingly.

"Well how am I supposed to know? I only just started believing in time travel. Give me a break."

"Looks like witchcraft, but it isn't. Can't be. Are you gonna stand there all night?"

"Sorry," she muttered and walked over to the empty bed. She sat down, crossing her legs, and stared at the floor.

"There's such a thing as psychic energy, but a human couldn't channel it like that. Not without a generator the size of Taunton, and I would've spotted that."

"Just like a human child can't harness ionic energy?" Rose asked.

The Doctor's eyes widened and he sat up, pulling her into a hug. "Oh! Rose Tyler, you are brilliant!"

She blinked and didn't hug him back. "What, you think an Isolus is doing this?" That was not a comforting thought. She'd already dealt with one of those brats once and she did not fancy another round.

"No, no," he assured her. "An Isolus couldn't do this, but there are several alien species that could. They must be somewhere nearby…possibly possessing or controlling humans, or they just look human."

"I know who it is," Rose said softly.

The Doctor's expression darkened. "About that, Rose—"

"Not now, Doctor, _please_." She leaned forward, crossing her legs in front of her.

"Rose. Whatever caused Lynley to die, you shouldn't have been able to feel it. _I_ couldn't feel it, Martha couldn't feel it—no one else could feel it." He leaned around to look her right in the eyes. "Except you. And I think you know why, but you're just not telling me."

Rose flinched.

Martha was holding very still. She'd felt lost the moment they started talking about an 'Isolus,' whatever the hell that was, but now she felt like she was witnessing something private. There was something…off about Rose. It was her eyes that gave her away. As she'd stared down the Judoon, there had been something old and fearless within them. When she'd tried to reach the plasmavore, Martha was sure she'd seen yellow-gold glinting in their depths. She had no idea what it was–and evidently the Doctor didn't either–but whatever it may be, it frightened her.

"Doctor. Just leave it alone for now," Rose said after a moment, her voice hard. "And focus on what's important. It's that servant girl, the one who was in the room with Shakespeare earlier. She was at the Theatre, too, dressed like a proper noble lady. The whole place felt off an' it only got worse when she arrived. I felt it again when I looked at her, only stronger. Like she was the source. Not long after she left the room, Lynley started…drowning."

The Time Lord's face was serious, his brow wrinkled and lips pressed firmly together.

"Can you feel anything now?"

"No, 's all normal."

He said nothing for a long minute. Rose didn't speak and neither did Martha. He broke the silence with a heavy sigh and leaned backwards against the pillow. "There's so many things it could be…if you'd tell me how you knew all this, it would help."

"I don't know _how_ I know, I just do," she evaded.

He was not impressed.

"Um…" Martha cleared her throat awkwardly. "If you want me to ask for another room so you two can talk, I can—"

"No," Rose said quickly. "You can stay. We'll talk _later_, Doctor." Her tone left no room for argument, and neither did the firm look she gave him as she crawled under the blanket. He looked mutinous, and though he didn't press the issue, he didn't get under the blankets, either.

"Don't you sleep?" Martha asked as she pulled the blanket over herself.

"Sometimes," he said. "Not as much or as often as you humans, though."

"How do you mean?"

"I slept for a few hours before we picked you up," he said. "I'll be fine for another week or so, depending on how things go."

"Mad."

"Time Lord."

Martha rolled her eyes. "Blow out that candle, will you, Rose?"

Rose propped herself up on her forearm and extinguished the candle, plunging the room into darkness except for the moonlight filtering through the windows. The three of them were silent and still for a moment as they all contemplated what had happened in the last twelve to twenty-four hours. Rose swallowed and lowered herself back down onto the pillow. A moment later, she felt the Doctor's fingers ghost across her temple. She tensed, thinking for an awful moment that he was trying to read her mind and find out what she was hiding—he could do it if he wanted, she knew he could—but then she realized he was simply brushing a few locks of hair out of her face. She was glad he couldn't see her face because it was burning with shame. He'd never do that to her and she felt horrible for thinking even for a second that he would.

It took her about two minutes before she realized sleep wasn't going to come any time soon, even with the soothing presence of the Doctor and his hand drifting through her hair. She hadn't been awake more than a few hours and her mind was racing; wondering how much was changing inside her…and wondering how she would tell him. She was on borrowed time now. He'd wait until they were alone and in the TARDIS, if she was lucky; he'd wait until they were simply alone if she wasn't. He might wait until Martha was unconscious, which made her want to fall asleep even more, but, of course, only served to keep her awake.

She felt the TARDIS nudge her comfortingly in the back of her mind and the tension in her body dissipated. She snuggled down into the lumpy mattress, enjoying the soothing sensation the ship caused. Then something occurred to her and Rose inhaled sharply. The way she felt the reassurance and the way she felt the wrongness of the witchcraft—they were the same.

Whenever the TARDIS tried to sooth her, her heart rate would automatically slow and her muscles would relax in response to the ships presence in her mind. She thought it was just the witchcraft making her nauseous, but what if she was really feeling nauseous because of her body's reaction to what the TARDIS was projecting?

_She_ wasn't really sensing anything, it was their _ship_ that felt the disturbances of the witchcraft! But why could she feel it and not the Doctor? She knew she had a unique tie to the ship, but he was telepathic and he'd been with the TARDIS for so much longer than she had. Surely his bond was stronger. Shouldn't he be the one feeling all this?

Unless…

"Rose," the Doctor breathed in her ear. "What is it?"

She cursed inwardly.

"Your heart is racing," he whispered. "Is something happening again?"

"No, but," Rose swallowed. "Is Martha…?"

"She's already asleep," he assured her. "She's had a longer day than you. You can tell me. Please, Rose—I need to know."

She swallowed again and closed her eyes as a shiver raced through her body. She could stay silent, she could, and he'd let it go for the night. She could have more time to think, to prepare. To get him away from the poor medical student who shouldn't have to see him properly angry and afraid so early on.

"Rose," he pleaded softly, moving his hand to her arm, and she gave in.

"Bad Wolf," she breathed.

She felt his entire body stiffen: every single muscle tensed at the name as his hand tightened on her arm. Rose pressed her face into the pillow and waited. Now he would become afraid…afraid and angry and rash. He'd haul her back to the TARDIS and demand things and run every test he could. Probably abandon Martha and go back for Donna to find out what she'd seen when Rose lost consciousness….

"What do you mean?" he asked, his voice level, but the hand gripping her arm betrayed his stress.

"Bad Wolf. I think that's how I know."

"What do you mean? I took it out of you, Rose."

"You got the Time Vortex out of my head but there's still somethin' linking me and the TARDIS together—and I mean more than just her being in there to translate and whatnot."

"What makes you think that?"

"Remember when you made Donna glow down in the lab? Well, I heard someone singing. Then later, when the Empress tried to pull all the particles out of Donna and Lance—well…I don't know what happened, exactly. I saw this golden light leave their bodies, and then I just started hurting. It felt like…like I was burning. I heard the singing again, too, before I passed out." She took a deep breath and let it out. "When I woke up on the TARDIS, Donna told me…she told me my eyes had glowed."

"And why you didn't tell me this then?" the Doctor asked through his teeth, struggling to keep his voice down. This was _not_ a conversation Martha needed to overhear. Suddenly her earlier offer to ask for a separate room sounded brilliant.

"I…I was…afraid." She whispered, tears starting to leak out of her eyes. "I didn't know what was happening…I was scared you'd be angry at me…and I just wanted to go off and have a good cry about my mum an' I knew if I told you that you wouldn't let me."

"Oh, Rose," he murmured. "Turn over, would you?" She did so, carefully, and he was able to see the tears shining in her eyes. He put his hand on her cheek. "I'm sorry. I don't want you to ever be afraid of me. Ever. But why, _why_ didn't you tell me sooner? This could be bad, Rose, very bad. They're _deadly_."

"I know."

"They could be killing you right now…" He faltered and shook his head. "I can't…"

"I know," she whispered. "I'm sorry. But it doesn't hurt, really, only when she tried to take them out of me. I can't hear the singing, either."

"We need to get back to the TARDIS now. I need to see what happening inside you. If it really is huon particles, or at least something similar, then I'll know how to look for them. Most scanners can't detect them since they're virtually obsolete, but I still have a few somewhere. We'll wake Martha and—"

"We can't. There's something goin' on here, Doctor. Something very, very bad. I can feel it. …I can _feel_ it…" she whispered, her eyes widening as her stomach clenched. "Happenin', right now. Witchcraft, or whatever it is."

"Where?" he asked. "Can you tell?"

She shook her head. "No, but I think—an' this is just an idea—but I reckon it's something to do with Shakespeare. All of it's happened around him." She shuddered, pulling her knees up to her stomach. "And it's somethin' to do with that girl. It's like…like she doesn't belong…or shouldn't exist. It feels so wrong and it makes me almost sick."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

Rose shook her head. "I don't know. God, I just don't know."

"I'll go check on him," he said, starting to pull away.

"No!" she gasped. She should let him go. She should, but whole body was shaking; her stomach was doing somersaults and she didn't want to be alone. "Stay. Please?"

The Doctor stared down at her for a moment, then nodded and put his arms around her waist, pulling her close, and she buried her face in the familiar fabric of his suit. They remained this way for a few minutes, listening to the sounds of their hearts, as her stomach settled and the energy dispersed, and Rose was left with only memories to prove it had happened.

"It's gone," she murmured finally.

A scream of pure, unadulterated terror tore through the night air and The Doctor shot up like a bullet before the scream had even reached its peak. Rose was just a split second behind him, leaping out of the bed and flying towards the door. Startled awake, Martha looked around wildly in time to see the two of them race out of the room, and followed.

The Doctor practically flew down the hall towards Shakespeare's room, his long legs propelling him, and Rose only barely managed to keep up without tripping over her nightgown. The Doctor hit the door to stop himself and Shakespeare jerked awake, somehow having slept through the sound of a terrified scream three feet from him. The source of the scream was lying flat on her back in front of the door.

"Dolly," Rose gasped as the Doctor knelt down. One of the windows banged against the wall outside, the wind rushing in. Martha and Rose ran over to it, expecting to see someone trying to climb down. Instead they saw, silhouetted against the full moon, a cloaked figure flying off on a broom, cackling wickedly. The two of them exchanged a shocked look then stared at the retreating figure.

"Her heart gave out," the Doctor reported behind them, disbelief coloring his tone. "She died of fright."

"Doctor," Martha called.

He sprang up, leaping around the desk to look out the window behind them. "What did you see?"

"A witch."

The Doctor stared at her, open mouthed.

Throughout the hours that followed, Rose Tyler didn't utter a single word.

Martha demanded the Doctor let her give Dolly a once over and finally agreed that, having found no other apparent causes, that Dolly Bailey had, indeed, died of fright. Shakespeare seemed stunned, demanding to know how he could have slept through her death, and the Doctor demanding the same thing of him. A constable was called to take her body away and a messenger was sent to locate Dolly's brother so the inn could be dealt with. There was no sign of the servant girl, whom they learned was called Lilith. She'd simply vanished...or hopped on a broom and flew off into the night.

Martha suggested they go get dressed because it was clear no one was getting back to sleep. Rose only nodded, dressing and helping Martha with her bodice in silence, ignoring the other woman's attempts to get her to talk. She didn't touch her hair except to brush it out with a strangely shaped hairbrush that the Doctor produced from his pocket and watched in silence as Martha fixed the updo hers was in.

At dawn they were seated in Shakespeare's room around the table, waiting. The man himself was still talking to the constable downstairs. Rose had her broken arm on the table, her fingers idly tracing each name, her expression melancholy.

"Earlier," Martha said quietly. "Those names on your cast, I couldn't read some of them. Now I can. Why's that?" She waited for a response, but Rose didn't even glance at her, just continued tracing the names.

But now the Doctor's attention was on Rose. Having been busy with affairs regarding the murder, he hadn't really had a moment to focus on the wellbeing of his companions, other than pausing to produce a hairbrush, but now he realized just how quiet she'd been. He hadn't heard her say a word since they'd found Dolly's body and that worried him. Rose was usually so animated and full of life, always waiting with a word or a laugh for any situation. Concern was merited when she was silent.

"Rose," he said softly, leaning close to her. "Are you alright?"

She stopped tracing names and sat there, still as a statue, barely breathing.

"Rose." He gently reached out, clasping her good hand in both of his and slowly, Rose looked up at him. She wasn't crying, but her eyes were deep and filled with sadness. "Say something, please."

"I killed her, Doctor," she whispered hoarsely.

"No," he murmured.

"I did, though," she said, her voice stronger, but still quiet. "You were gonna go look around, but I stopped you. If you had been there you could've saved her." She gritted her teeth, self-loathing written on every inch of her face. "But I made you stay an' now she's dead because I'm a coward."

"Rose Marion Tyler, you are not a coward," the Doctor said firmly. "You are one of the bravest people I have ever met in all of time and space." He put his hand on her cheek. "There's not many that could stare into the eyestalk of a Dalek and live to tell the tale, never mind _change_ one like you did. Or stand up to a Sycoraxian general alone. Or order me to launch a missile right at them. Or," he lowered his voice, "completely ignore Emergency Programme One, rip open the heart of the TARDIS, and journey back into a warzone just to save my life."

Rose ducked her head and said nothing.

Martha cleared her throat. "I hate to intrude—and mind you, it feels like that's all I'm doing with you two—but Rose, I don't think you should be beating yourself up like this."

She looked up, eyebrows arched, waiting.

"It's just like my professors said, back when I started med school: You can't save everyone. You just can't. Some patients can be saved, but some are going to die—and you have to accept that. Sometimes it'll be because of something you did or didn't do, but you can't second-guess yourself and bother with the _what ifs_; 'cause no matter how you feel about it, you can't change anything, and there's always gonna be someone else who's still alive that you can save."

Rose swallowed and stared at the medical student: while she was older than her physically, Martha Jones was younger in so many ways; but still Rose realized why the Doctor had accepted her. He had a way of seeing that spark in people even when no one else did and it took being around him to bring it out. Well, it was out now, and Martha was starting to shine, understanding on her own something that was fundamental to their lifestyle, even though it was cruel.

"Martha," she said slowly. "I think you're gonna be a great companion."

"That's exactly what I was thinking." The Doctor said with a sort of paternal pride, like a father watching his daughter riding her bike without training wheels for the first time.

It was Martha's turn to duck her head, embarrassed by what felt like high praise. It really wasn't that big of a deal, was it? It was just the bare truth of things. Rose had needed a reminder. She wasn't smiling yet, but the self-hatred had faded and her sadness wasn't as profound. It would do for now.

Rose held up the cast. "Not all of these are in English," she answered Martha's earlier question. "In fact, most of them aren't. I've been gettin' signatures every time I've had to wear one of these. Like a bunch of souvenirs. Oh, I should get Shakespeare to sign…"

"Shakespeare's autograph. That'd be worth a mint," Martha said conspiratorially.

"Don't get a brain door," Rose chastised, almost smiling.

"Alright, what is all this about a 'brain door'? You're going to have to explain that to me if you—"

"Later," the Doctor held up his hand to quiet them, watching the door.

Shakespeare entered, his head down, and he seemed to have aged years in the span of a few hours. He crossed to the window, staring out at the dawn, and the room waited in silence. The weight of Dolly's death pressed down on them all again. Rose's mild amusement faded and she returned to tracing the names on her cast. The Doctor put his face in his hands and Martha sat there, feeling oddly small. Finally, William sighed and turned from the window.

"Oh, sweet Dolly Bailey. She sat out three bouts of the plague in this place. We all ran like rats." He sat down at his desk. "But what could have scared her so? She had such enormous spirit."

"'Rage, rage against the dying of the light,'" the Doctor quoted.

"I might use that."

"You can't. It's someone else's."

"I'll tell you what it was," Rose spoke up. "It was Lilith, that servant."

"Come now, Dame Rose. Lilith has been here for near as long as I have and in all this time, she has never struck me as anything but a harmless young maid. No mere girl could've frightened Dolly to death."

"An' you're probably right, but Lilith wasn't a mere girl. I've been feelin' all weird ever since we first set foot in the Globe and that's when it all began. That's when I first saw Lilith an' you, and I saw her again here with you. It's you, Shakespeare. It's all to do with you. Whatever she's doing, it's because of you. She's a witch."

"Even if you are right—and I'm not saying you are—what would a witch want with _me_?" Shakespeare asked.

"Well, you're a genius," the Doctor said. "One of the best there ever was. That's something."

"But...for God's sake man, I can understand other writers or poets wanting me for something, but _witches_? It's absurd!"

"Think what you want, Mr. Shakespeare, but I saw a witch; we both did." Martha added, gesturing between herself and Rose. "Big as you like, flying, cackling away, and you've written about witches."

"I have?" Shakespeare frowned. "When was that?"

"Not, not quite yet," the Doctor said quietly to Martha, who mentally slapped herself.

"It doesn't matter why they want you," she said. "They just do."

"Actually, it does matter," the Doctor corrected. "Discovering the motive is half the victory. With someone's motive you can understand why they do the things they do. And if we find out what they want and why, I may be able to figure out what they are. Because right now, I haven't the foggiest."

"You don't even have an idea?" Rose asked, startled.

"No," he shook his head. "I've got about three thousand ideas and not enough time to test them all. I'm missing something important." He put his hands in his hair. "If I could just figure it out…"

"Peter Streete spoke of witches," Shakespeare said suddenly.

"Who's Peter Streete?" Martha asked.

"Our builder. He sketched the plans to the Globe."

The Doctor sat straight up. "The architect," he murmured. "Rose, didn't you say the—oh! Oh yes! The architect!" He slammed his fist on the table. "The Globe!"

He grabbed his coat and rushed out the door. Martha and Shakespeare looked at each other incredulously, neither of them used to the Doctor when he got like this—but thankfully Rose was, and she grabbed Martha's arm and hauled her out of her chair. "Come on or he'll leave us behind!"

Shakespeare grabbed the script and followed them.

Ahead of them, the Doctor was yelling, "The Globe might be the key! Come on!" He loped across the landing, down the stairs, out of the Inn, and headed for the Globe Theatre. Martha, Rose, and Shakespeare could do nothing but try and keep up, throwing apologies to the people that had nearly been trampled by the Time Lord in his mad dash.

"Rose," Shakespeare puffed, "I do believe your man may be a bit mad."

"Oh, he is," she replied. "Just go with it, 's all you can do."

When they arrived at the Globe, the Doctor was already pacing around in the pit where the audience could stand, counting and muttering to himself, but his mania had calmed. Rose watched him for a moment, and then mounted the stage and sat down on the edge, her legs dangling over the front of it, leaning on her good hand to wait. Taking their cues from her, Martha and William waited on the stage, out of the Doctor's way, but close enough to offer input when it was needed.

Martha sat down next to Rose, noting the patience on her face as she watched the brainstorming Time Lord pace. This must be a common occurrence. She wondered how it must have been for Rose when she first joined the Doctor. Had she had someone else to take her cues from or had she been on her own trying to work out the way he worked?

"I've always wondered but I never asked…" the Doctor said loudly enough that it got their attention. "Tell me, Will, why fourteen sides?"

"It was the shape Peter Streete thought best, that's all." He explained. "Said it carried the sound well."

"Why does that ring a bell? Fourteen…"

"There's fourteen lines in a sonnet," Martha suggested.

"So there is. Good point," the Doctor nodded and resumed pacing. "Words and shapes following the same design. Fourteen lines, fourteen sides, fourteen facets…Oh, my head. Tetradecagon… Think, think, think!" He hit his head along with each word. "Words, letters, numbers, lines!"

"This is just a theatre!" Shakespeare said, unable to see why the Doctor was making such a fuss about the building.

"Oh, but a theatre's magic, isn't it? You should know." He walked over to the stage, putting his arms in the space between Rose and Martha, and looked up at them. "Stand on this stage, say the right words with the right emphasis at the right time…Oh, you can make men weep, or cry with joy, change them." His eyes widened as something dawned on him. "You can change people's minds just with words in this place… And if you exaggerate that…" he looked at Rose. "You said this place feels funny?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Something about it's just wrong. But it's sort of quiet, more like an undercurrent right now. It was like this last night, too, 'til Lilith showed up; then it got worse. Their magic, it's in the whole place…" she trailed off, looking up at the box where Lilith had sat the night beforehand.

"It's like the TARDIS," Martha said. "Small wooden box with all that power inside." She gestured with her hands.

The Doctor grinned. "Oh, Martha Jones, I like you. Absolutely brilliant, you are, both of you. Tell you what, though. Peter Streete would know. Can I talk to him?"

"You won't get an answer. A month after finishing this place—" Shakespeare gestured around them. "Lost his mind."

"Why?" Martha asked. "What happened?"

"Started raving about witches, hearing voices, babbling. His mind was addled."

"Where is he now?" the Doctor asked.

"Bedlam," Shakespeare said grimly.

Martha didn't like the sound of that. "What's Bedlam?"

"Bethlem Hospital. The madhouse."

"We're gonna go there. Right now. Come on."

His two companions exchanged glances then slid down from the stage and followed him towards the exit. Shakespeare announced he was coming, pausing to hand over the script to one of his arriving actors to be copied and memorized by tonight, then followed the three mysterious travelers out.

Rose noted with ire, however, that he didn't seem to be taking things too seriously. Or at least not as seriously as he should have been. If the man was smart enough to make the deep observations he had last night within a few minutes, surely he could see that she and the Doctor were not joking about this? But what did she know about the way the minds of geniuses worked? Well, _human_ geniuses, anyway. For all she knew they were all as scatterbrained as the Doctor, hopping from one subject to the next and hiding their fear behind humor and/or flirting.

If he was afraid, then Shakespeare had chosen both. "So, tell me of Freedonia, where women can be doctors, writers, actors."

"This country's ruled by a woman," Martha pointed out.

"Ah, she's royal. That's God's business. Though you are a royal beauty."

Martha stopped walking and laughed, holding up her hand. "Whoa, Nelly! I know for a fact you've got a wife in the country."

"But Martha, this is Town," he argued smoothly.

With a laugh, Rose stopped, turning on her heel, and put her hands on her hips. Sometimes it seemed like the Doctor shared that mindset. Not that she was his wife or anything, but he'd seemed ready to forget her existence when presented with a pretty French aristocrat with a big skirt and bigger—

"Come on!" the Doctor called impatiently from behind her. "We can all have a good flirt later!"

"Is that a promise, Doctor?" William Shakespeare looked the Time Lord up and down.

The Doctor inhaled slowly. "Oooh…fifty-seven academics just punched the air," he murmured. "Now, move!"

A few minutes later, Rose suddenly stumbled, her momentum sending her careening into a passing merchant who shouted a curse as they both toppled to the ground.

"Rose!" Martha cried and the Doctor's body went rigid and he turned mid-stride, loping back to them. The Doctor was by Rose's side almost instantly, grasping her arms and helping her to her feet before the merchant could offer.

She looked up, her eyes wide and afraid, and Martha could see she was shaking.

"What is it?" he demanded quietly and there was something in his expression, something dark and ancient and possessive that caused Martha to take an automatic step back.

"Something's happening," she gasped, her shoulders hunched and her arms crossed across her stomach. "Feels like the Globe, only worse…Oh, God," she moaned, clutching at her chest like she was in pain.

"Should we go back?" Martha asked.

"I should. Ralph, Dick, and Kempe are there now, possibly others." Shakespeare said worriedly. "If something's amiss, I—"

"No," Rose said suddenly, lowering her hands. She straightened up and swallowed. "It's gone. Whatever was happening, it's over. It didn't feel the same as the other times. It felt like something was ripping or…or tearing…"

"I should return." Shakespeare turned to go.

"No," the Doctor barked, his gaze never leaving Rose. "We're almost to Bedlam now and, hopefully, the truth. Going back won't do any good—especially since you have no way of explaining how you knew something was wrong."

"Actually, I do."

"No," the Doctor growled. "You tell anyone about what Rose is detecting then they'll assume she's a witch herself."

"And how do you know she's not?" he challenged, taking a step towards them. "How do you know like is not sensing like? Because that's exactly what it appears to be. I know she's your wife, Sir Doctor, but there are some things—"

The Doctor's head snapped up, his expression darker and colder than the deepest reaches of space, and Shakespeare's voice died in his throat.

"Rose Tyler is many, many things—but she is not a witch." He said coldly, silently daring the man to challenge him.

This was not the first time she'd been accused of witchery, nor would it be the last, but the Doctor would let the entire city burn before he'd let them burn her.

Timelines be damned.

* * *

**We've still got our stockings hanging on the wall (we have no fireplace) so if anyone wants to drop a review in it on their way out, it's the second one from the right. Plenty of room in there. :)**


	9. The Three Witches

**In case you missed the memo, _The Christmas Star_, this universe's version of _The Runaway Bride_ is currently being worked on. You can find it with my other stories.**

* * *

_"Harpier cries: 'tis time! 'tis time! _  
_Round about the caldron go; _  
_In the poison'd entrails throw._  
_Toad, that under cold stone, _  
_Days and nights has thirty-one; _  
_Swelter'd venom sleeping got, _  
_Boil thou first i' the charmed pot!" - Macbeth, Act 4 Scene 1_

* * *

Even though he had apologized for suggesting it and admitted his fear of the strange events, Rose couldn't quite bring herself to look Shakespeare in the eye anymore.

The Doctor had calmed down, though he kept a wary eye on the Bard, as if expecting him to tear off and rouse a mob. And he could do it, the wordsmith, stirring up a mob with just a few well-chosen words. And then they'd have to fight their way back to the TARDIS and Lilith would be left with a clear path to whatever it is she was after.

Though Shakespeare seemed eager to prove himself loyal, using his way with words to get them access to Peter Street before the Doctor even had a chance to whip out the psychic paper.

A portly jailer led them through the stinking halls of Bedlam. Men and women alike gazed at them through the bars, some reaching out, shaking the bars of their cages, while others simply sat and stared; some begged and pleaded; some just screamed wordlessly. The smell of hundreds of unwashed bodies, bodily waste, illness, and decay mixed together to create a rotting odor that made the Doctor's hypersensitive nose wrinkle in revulsion.

Martha was completely and utterly disgusted, the doctor within her screaming in protest. These people were sick. They needed _help_; they needed care and medicine; they needed people willing to fight the madness to save them. They didn't need to be chucked into cells and left to rot. And as much as she had always abhorred those so-called "mercy killings," she realized that here and now for these people, death would be a mercy.

"Does my lord Doctor wish some entertainment while he waits?" The jailer inquired. "I'll whip these madmen. They'll put on a good show for ya! Bandog and Bedlam!"

"No, I don't," the Doctor said in disgust.

"This is sick!" Rose told the jailer vehemently. "And you're sick for thinkin' it's funny!"

The man looked a bit uncomfortable. "My apologies, ma'am. Uh, wait here, my lords, while I…make him decent for the ladies."

He walked off to prepare Peter—whatever that meant,—and Rose rounded on Shakespeare, looking him right in the eyes. "You call this a hospital? This is a _dungeon_! It's sick!"

"She's right. What kind of hospital whips its patients to entertain the gentry?" Martha was utterly repulsed. "And you put your friend in here?"

"Oh, and it's all so different in Freedonia," he retorted.

"Actually, yeah," Rose snapped. "It is."

"Do you really think this place does any good?" Martha demanded.

"I've been mad. I've lost my mind," Shakespeare told her. "Fear of this place set me right again. It serves its purpose."

"Mad in what way?"

"You lost your son," the Doctor murmured.

"My only boy," Shakespeare said. "The Black Death took him. I wasn't even there."

"I didn't know. I'm sorry," Martha apologized.

"It made me question everything." He went on as if he hadn't heard her. Maybe he hadn't. 'The futility of this fleeting existence. To be or not to be… Oh," he put his hand near his chin. "That's quite good."

"You should write that down," the Doctor suggested.

"Hmm, maybe not. A bit pretentious?"

The Doctor shrugged.

"This way, m'lord!" the jailor called, and they were off again. He unlocked the cell for them. They filed in solemnly, gazing at the cell's single occupant, a skinny man with dirty hair shaking on the cot in the middle of the cell. "They can be a bit dangerous, m'lord. Don't know their own strength," he cautioned.

"I think it helps if you don't whip them!" the Doctor snapped. "Now get out."

If the phrase existed in this time, Rose thought the jailor would probably have said well, excuse me! 'Different cultures, different customs,' she knew. As far as he was concerned, beating the madmen was acceptable. That still didn't stop her from wanting to give him a taste of his own medicine, but she restrained herself. They needed to hear Peter's story and they couldn't do that if she got them thrown out. He closed the door behind them, locked it, and went on his way.

The Doctor was slowly approaching the man on the floor. "Peter?" he called softly.

Martha and Shakespeare started to follow him, but Rose shook her head, motioning for them to keep back. Peter was…well, he wasn't…he wasn't wrong like Lilith, but he wasn't _right_ like a normal human, either.

What are you trying to tell me? she thought, but the TARDIS didn't respond. Not even a flicker of emotion.

"Peter Street?"

"He's the same as he was," Shakespeare muttered. "You'll get nothing out of him."

The Doctor knelt down in front of Peter, his expression gentle and sympathetic. Rose knew what was coming; she'd seen it happen before. She didn't know exactly how it worked, but he'd told her once that telepathy was potentially a two-way street. What if Peter somehow got into the Doctor's mind?

"Doctor," she murmured. "Doctor, don't."

The Doctor glanced over Peter's head at her, arching his eyebrow.

"He's not…right," she tried to explain, gritting her teeth in frustration when she couldn't come up with anything better. But the Doctor understood and nodded once.

"We're in the madhouse, Miss Rose," Shakespeare said impatiently. "No one here is right."

"Peter," the Doctor said again, putting his hand on the man's shoulder, and Peter's head snapped up. He shook, his mouth moving like he wanted to speak, but something was stopping him.

Rose stiffened. It was happening again. This time it was Peter Street making the hairs on the back of her neck stick straight up and causing her stomach to flutter uneasily. Not all unlike the way Lilith had felt, yet completely different. He wasn't radiating it like she had. She forced herself not to react, not to let her discomfort show. Peter needed the Doctors undivided attention.

The Time Lord put his hands on either side of Peter's face. "Peter, I'm the Doctor. Go into the past, one year ago." His voice was low and hypnotic; it gave Rose shivers. "Let your mind go back, back to when everything was fine and shining. Everything that happened in this year since happened to somebody else. It was just a story. A winter's tale. Let go. Listen. That's it; just let go." Peter's body slumped and the Doctor eased Peter down onto the cot.

The man gasped, swallowing, and trembled. The Doctor stood over him, powerful and commanding.

"What's he doing?" Martha whispered.

"It's…kind of like hypnosis," Rose explained softly. She half-expected Peter to start speaking in a raspy voice about being alone. If only.

"Tell me the story, Peter." The Time Lord commanded. "Tell me about the witches."

Peter twitched and spoke slowly, haltingly. "Witches…spoke to Peter… In the night, they whispered. They whispered." He raised his hand, his fingers wiggling and twitching near his ear, breathing quickly. When he spoke again, his voice was louder, firmer. "Got Peter to build the Globe to their design. _Their_ design."

The Doctor glanced up at Rose for a moment.

"The fourteen walls," he chuckled. "Always fourteen. When the work was done…" he laughed again, "they—they snapped poor Peter's wits."

"But where did Peter see the witches?" The Doctor asked. "Where in the city?"

Peter panted, swallowing with great difficulty, as if he wanted to say the word but couldn't.

"Peter," the Doctor crouched down, his voice gruff and intense. "Tell me. You've got to tell me. Where were they?"

Rose felt it building, the energy growing, and she sucked in a sharp breath between her teeth as the feeling of nausea rolled through her like a tidal wave.

Peter sucked in a breath through his teeth and with a great effort he told them.

"All Hallows Street."

Rose blinked. There was nothing behind the Doctor when her eyes had closed, but when they opened an ugly green-skinned hag with a long chin and nose and scraggly brown hair was in the spot that had been empty not a second before. She gasped just as the creature opened its mouth.

"Too many words," it said.

The Doctor whipped around, seeing the hag and immediately backing away from it and Peter. "What the hell!" Martha exclaimed.

Now Rose really felt sick to her stomach. The _thing_ before them was hideous and wrong; so, so wrong. The TARDIS knew it and so did she.

"Just one touch of the heart." The hag declared, lifting her finger, and lowering it to Peter's chest.

"NO!" the Doctor shouted.

Rose choked, doubling over. The witch inhaled loudly as Peter screamed his final cry and died. The witch moaned.

"Witch!" Shakespeare pointed. "I'm seeing a witch!"

"Yeah, you are," Rose spat out, raising her head. "And she _shouldn't_ exist!"

"Oh, dear, I should. I think it is you who will not exist much longer!" The witch pointed her finger at Rose. "Would you like to be first? Just one touch…oh, oh, I'll stop your frantic heart. Poor, fragile mortals."

"LET US OUT!" Martha backed away to the bars, turning to shake him. "LET US OUT!"

"That's not gonna work. The whole building's shouting that." The Doctor told her.

Martha turned away from the bars, gasping and seconds from crying.

"So who will die first, hmm?" the witch asked. "Perhaps the fair child? She seems to be in pain. Or perhaps the dark child who seems so distressed?"

"Well, if you're looking for volunteers." The Doctor walked towards the witch, placing himself between her and Rose.

"Doctor!"

"No! Don't!"

"Doctor, can you stop her?" Shakespeare queried.

"No mortal has power over me!" The hag declared.

"Oh, but there's power in words." The Doctor growled and her confidence dimmed a bit. "If I can find the right one—If I can just know you."

"None on Earth have knowledge of us." She hissed, pointing at him.

"Then it's a good thing I'm here." He leaned away from her probing finger. "Then it's a good thing I'm here. Now: think, think, think... Humanoid female, uses shapes and words to channel energy…"

"Shouldn't exist!" Rose snarled.

The hag called Doomfinger looked at the blonde girl—the one that Lilith was concerned about. She was not one of their sisters gone rogue, yet she could sense their work and warn others of it. She was something new, something unique. Her eyes were feral and dangerous and they seemed to gleam yellow as she glared.

"AH!" The Doctor yelled. THAT'S IT! You _shouldn't_ exist; not anymore! And fourteen makes sense now! The fourteen stars of the Rexel planetary configuration! Creature, I name you…_Carrionite_!"

The witch's eyes flipped wide. She screamed as she was enveloped in a bright light and vanished as quickly as she'd come. Rose breathed deeply as the feelings plaguing her disappeared along with the alien…witch…whatever. The Doctor stepped back, grinning viciously.

"What did you do?" Martha whispered.

"I named her. The power of a name—that's old magic."

Martha shook her head. "But…there's no such thing as magic. You said so."

"Well, it's just a different sort of science," the Doctor explained. "You lot, you chose mathematics. Given the right string of numbers, the right equation, you can split the atom. The Carrionites use words instead."

"Use them for what?" Shakespeare demanded.

The Doctor swallowed and looked at the spot where the witch had vanished. "The end of the world."

There was silence in the cell, broken only by the loud wailing of a man in the distance as he felt the sting of a whip. Martha's exhaled sharply, wondering how the Doctor could sound so calm even though he practically radiated tension.

Beside her Rose snorted a laugh. "Again?"

"Rose, this is hardly the time for laughing." Shakespeare reprimanded. "If what he says is true, then this is a very serious matter."

"Yeah, I know it's serious, but _the end of the world_? It happened with me, Jack, Mickey, and now Martha. Doctor, have you ever had a companion who didn't end up facing the end of the world on their first go?"

The Doctor opened and closed his mouth. "Ah…uh…well…" He made a face. "Yeah, of course I have."

"Guess we're just lucky then," Martha muttered.

A few hours later back at the Elephant Inn, Shakespeare was preparing for the performance that evening while Rose and Martha lounged against the desk and shelf respectively. The Doctor paced, despite Martha admonishing that he'd wear a hole in the floor, and finally explained what the hell Carrionites were and why it had taken him so long to realize what they were up against.

"The Carrionites disappeared way back at the dawn of the universe." He explained, running his hand through his hair. "Nobody was sure if they were real or legend."

"Well, I'm going for real." Shakespeare retorted.

"And it partially explains why you can feel them, Rose." He stopped in front of her. "Or rather why the Old Girl can. Carrionite powers are obsolete. She's old, but she was grown long after their banishment. She doesn't recognize them and this planet isn't used to them. Their magic must create odd readings to her scanners every time and it's not often we encounter something that she has no knowledge on. That's what you're feeling this way. But…but _how_? How can you feel it when I don't?"

"Maybe that's also to do with Bad—" Rose began to suggest, stopping at the look on the Doctor's face.)

"Never mind that now!" Martha interrupted. "What do the Carrionites want?"

A muscle in his jaw twitched and he leaned against the desk with Rose. "A new empire on Earth, I'd say. A world of…bones and blood and witchcraft."

"But how?"

He turned his head. "I'm looking at the man with the words."

Shakespeare lowered the towel from his face. "Me? But I've done nothing."

"Are you sure about that?" Rose asked quietly. "Because every time I've felt something it's been connected to you. You or the Globe and its your theatre. 'S all about you, Shakespeare—an' don't let that get to your head."

Shakespeare shook his head. "But…I don't…I haven't…"

"Rose, you felt something last night, yeah? Will, what were you doing last night before Dolly died?" Martha asked.

"Finishing the play." He replied, desperate to prove he hadn't been doing anything odd.

The Doctor raised his head. "What happens on the last page?"

"The boys get the girls. They have a bit of a dance. It's all as funny and thought provoking as usual." He looked up, eyes wide as something occurred to him. "Except those last few lines. Funny thing is… I don't actually remember writing them."

"That's it," the Doctor realized, walking slowly towards him. "They used you. That's what Rose felt. They gave you the final words. Like a spell, like a code. _Love's Labours Won_—it's a weapon! The right combination of words," he held up his hand, his fingers curled like he was holding a ball, "spoken at the right place with the shape of the Globe as an energy converter! The play's the thing! And yes," he added, "You can have that."

"Alright." Rose stood up. "So we know who, how, and why. Now what do we do?"

"We find them and we stop the play. All Hallows Street… Anyone know where that is?" They shook their heads. "Figures. Will, have you got any street maps in here?"

"Ah… Yes!" He walked over to the shelf and pulled open a drawer. Martha moved out of the way as he rummaged through the contents and pulled out a stack of papers. "Should be in here, somewhere." He set them on the desk and the Doctor whipped out his glasses, stepping around the desk to look.

William Shakespeare stepped away from the desk, folding his arms. He looked at Rose and nodded to her hand. "I've been meaning to ask. What is that?"

She held up her arm. "What, this? It's a brace. I broke my arm not too long ago. This helps it heal."

"And the writings on it? So strange…what languages are they?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Oh, I think I might. After today, I think I might just believe anything."

Rose smiled. "Feelin' inspired?"

"A bit."

"Oh, by the way, do you think you could sign it?" she asked. "That's what these writings are: people's names."

"Um, why?"

"It's a hobby. Hey, Doctor, can I have the marker pen?"

He didn't even pause his search. "Rose, we're in the middle of saving the world."

"Oh, right. Later then."

The Doctor cried out triumphantly. "Ah! Here we go… now where… All Hallows Street! There it is. Martha, Rose, we'll track them down. Will, you get to the Globe. Whatever you do, stop that play."

"I'll do it," Shakespeare said, reaching to shake the Doctor's hand. "All these years, I've been the cleverest man around. Next to you, I know nothing."

"Oh, God, don't tell him that. His ego's big enough." Rose groaned.

"But it's marvelous! Good luck, Doctor."

"Good luck, Shakespeare." He replied, running around the desk and grabbing his coat. "Once more unto the breach!"

"I like that!" Shakespeare said as the three of them hurried out of the move. And then he realized, "Wait a minute. That's one of mine!"

The Doctor leaned around the doorframe. "Oh, just shift!"

It didn't take long for them to reach All Hallows Street. Martha was starting to get used to the running, lucky for her. Rose was likewise becoming accustomed to her own problem, though that didn't make it bother her any less. There was a brief flash, a small, swift bit of Carrionite magic that lasted little more than a tick, and it only made her stride falter. But the closer they got to All Hallows, the more the air thickened with their energy.

The Doctor announced when they arrived at the proper street. It felt like the exterior of the Globe to Rose, full of residual energy that came from being exposed to the Carrionite's powers for an extended period of time. Rose closed her eyes, focusing on the sensations she was feeling, trying to pinpoint where the readings that were bugging the TARDIS were originating from.

Meanwhile, Martha voiced something that had been nagging at her for a few hours. "The world didn't end in 1599. It just didn't. Look at me—I'm living proof."

"Oh, how to explain the mechanics of infinite temporal flux?" he murmured. "Oh, I know! _Back to the Future_. It's like _Back to the Future_."

"The film?"

"No, the novelization. Yes, the film! Marty McFly goes back and changes history."

"And he starts fading away. …Oh my God, am I gonna fade?"

"You and the entire future of the human race. It ends right now unless—"

"That house," Rose said suddenly, opening her eyes. She lifted her arm and pointed to the one directly in front of them. As if on cue, the door slowly opened. "Okay, that was spooky."

"Neat trick," the Doctor joked, holding out his hand for her to take, wiggling his fingers. "You'll have to teach me sometime. Could do for opening the TARDIS quickly during a chase."

She shot him a look but slid her hand into his. The three of them proceeded carefully into the house and Rose, feeling like a mouse walking towards a cat, gripped his hand tightly and her nails dug into the material of her brace. She looked up at the ceiling. "She's up there."

They found the stairs near the back of the house and climbed to the upper floor. She could practically smell their magic now, and that wasn't the only thing that smelled. The Doctor pushed a curtain aside and they entered the room. The shelves and walls were lined and stacked with all manner of plants, candles, masks, beads, dead animals, and other things she couldn't even name. A black cauldron (God, could it get any more cliché?) sat bubbling near the middle of the room—and Lilith, cloaked in black, stood beside it, waiting. Gone was the meek servant girl and in her place was a leering, confident woman.

"I take it we're expected," the Doctor deduced.

"Oh, I think death has been waiting for you for a long time." Lilith said, looking up and down.

"Right then," Martha tapped the Doctor's chest with the back of her hand. "It's my turn." She swaggered forward, confident in her ability to deal with Lilith. "I know how to do this." She pointed straight at her heart. "I name thee…Carrionite!"

Lilith gasped, seemingly shocked, but it faded almost immediately, replaced by a smug giggle.

"What did I do wrong?" Martha asked the Doctor. "Was it the finger?"

"The power of a name works only once," Lilith explained. "Observe."

She lifted her finger and pointed it directly at Martha's chest. "I gaze upon this bag of bones and now I name thee Martha Jones!"

Martha gasped, her eyes rolling back into her head, and her legs gave out. The Doctor tried to catch her, but only managed to ease her fall to the floor. "What have you done?!" he demanded.

Lilith looked at her finger. "Hmm. Only sleeping, alas. It's curious. The name has less impact. She's somehow out of her time." She frowned for a moment, completely stumped, then dropped forward, pointing at him. "As for you, Sir Doctor—" she stopped, a curious look crossing her face. "Fascinating. There is no name. Why would a man hide his title in such despair? …But there is still one with a name that can cause you pain."

"Don't you _dare_!"

She looked at Rose. "Your fragile life draws to a close as I name thee Dame Rose!"

"NO!" the Doctor shouted.

It felt like something slamming into her with the force of a moving truck and stabbing her with a thousand knives all at once. The TARDIS cried out in alarm. She fell back, gasping and clutching at her front, but she didn't lose consciousness. The Doctor caught her, holding her close, and glared at the Carrionite with all the fury of The Oncoming Storm.

Lilith herself was looking between Rose and her finger in bewilderment. "Impossible!"

"I am gettin' really sick of all this bloody magic!" Rose hissed through the pain.

Lilith's lip curled and she peered at Rose closely. "Ah…" She said after a moment. "You have two names. But your other name is scattered throughout all of time and space…two words…a message and a warning…you are the Bad—"

"Do you know _why_ I'm called that?" Rose interrupted, pushing herself to her feet, but the Doctor kept her firmly in his embrace. "You name me, and you might jus' find out."

Lilith's teeth were bared in frustration. "Or I may kill you."

Rose could hear the singing in her mind, quiet but definitely there—the TARDIS waiting to defend her humans and her Time Lord with the best weapon they had. Her eyes were dangerous and ancient, almost shining golden in the light. She arched one eyebrow, daring Lilith to try.

The Carrionite took a step away from them—a man with no name, a girl with _the_ name. Whatever they were, they were dangerous and they needed to be disposed of—but carefully, carefully. "Very well, _Rose Tyler_, I will spare you."

"Leave her alone," the Doctor growled, stepping towards her. "Your people vanished eons ago. Where did you go?"

Lilith spun around, returning to her original spot beside the bubbling cauldron. "The Eternals found the right word to banish us into deep darkness."

"And how did you escape?"

"New words—new and glittering," she practically purred. "From a mind like no other."

"Shakespeare."

She nodded once. Her eyes flicked down to the cauldron where an image of Shakespeare grieving was visible in the blue liquid. "The grief of a genius—grief without measure—madness enough to allow us entrance."

"How many of you?"

"Just the three," she said, walking towards the window. She turned again. "Then the human race will be purged, as pestilence. And from this world, we will lead the universe back into the old ways of blood and magic."

"Hmm." He walked towards her, scratching at his sideburn. Rose followed, her eyes still glinting dangerously. "Busy schedule. But first…you have to get past me."

"Oh, that should be a pleasure," she purred seductively at him, lifting her hand to trace one side of his face. The Doctor didn't even flinch. "Considering my enemy has such a…handsome shape."

"Now, that's one form of magic that's definitely not gonna work on me," the Doctor warned her.

"And you can back off now, you slag." Rose reached forward, grabbing Lilith's hand that was holding a pair of small scissors near his hair and dug her nails in the skin. Lilith hissed sharply, jerking away.

The Doctor wisely stepped back but Rose had had enough. She lifted her hand, pointing at the Carrionite. "We already used up 'Carrionite,' but what about _your_ name? I heard it earlier. I name you Lilith!"

Lilith's face showed shock before she cried out in pain, her form glowing more vibrantly than the other witch's had as she disappeared, and her scream faded away into nothing.

Rose's jaw was clenched as she lowered her hand. She glared at the spot where Lilith had vanished. "Did I kill her?"

"No, I don't think so," he murmured. "You probably just banished her to somewhere else in this world. She'll be back, though."

Then she rounded on the Doctor. "What were you thinkin', lettin' her get that close? You're completely hopeless, I swear!"

The Doctor looked sheepish. "Sorry?"

"You better be," she growled.

On the ground where she'd fallen, Martha stirred. They rushed to her side as she moaned, holding her head, and sat up. "Oh, _blimey_. Did anyone get the number of that bus? What'd I miss? Where'd she go?"

"I named her," Rose explained.

"What? Hey, how come it worked for you an' not me?"

"I used her real name, not her species."

"Oh. Well then." Martha grunted once as she pushed herself to her feet and straightened her skirt. "I feel like an idiot."

"Oh, don't worry, you're still a novice." The Doctor smiled at her before smacking his forehead. "World could be ending any second now and we're having a chat! Come on! The Globe!" He grabbed Rose's hand, and the three of them were off again into the night.

Not even two minutes after they left the house, Rose cried out, her face screwing up in pain. The Doctor caught her as she fell. Ahead of them, people were starting to scream in terror and there was a sound like thunder and rushing wind. He looked up, torn.

There was a hole between realities not two miles away. If Carrionite power had been uncomfortable, this was absolutely excruciating. It was like someone was cutting her open inch by inch, pulling skin from muscle and muscle from bone to reach her heart, and all the while her stomach was doing somersaults and cartwheels and backflips. If he saw how much it hurt then he would never leave her and he had to go, he had to stop this.

"We're too late!" Rose gasped. "The portal's open—oh, God. I _can't_…"

Her face twisted again. She only managed to turn away from him before she threw up. Coughing and gagging, she emptied the contents of her stomach onto the street. The Doctor rubbed her back soothingly, his attention solely on her for the moment. Pain stabbed at her and she heaved again. Coughing, tears leaking down her face, she reached up to wipe her mouth.

"Can you walk?" he asked urgently.

She shook her head immediately. "No. I-I can't. You've gotta—agh!" She let out another cry of pain. "Just—just go, Doctor. You've gotta stop this!"

"Hang on," he said. "I can carry you."

She shook her head, forcing her eyes open. "I can't…get any closer," she panted, "or I swear I'm gonna black out, or worse. You gotta—_ah_—take Martha and g-go! No, don't argue!" she snapped, sucking in a sharp breath through her teeth. "Last time you stayed for me, Dolly died. If you don't go, then everyone dies. GO!"

The Doctor swallowed, his hands tightening on her.

"Martha…make him go!"

Martha put her hand on the Doctor's shoulder. "She's right, we have to hurry."

The Doctor swallowed and picked Rose up, but only to carry her out of the road so she wouldn't be trampled and set her down near a house. She squeezed his hand, giving him a smile, and only after he and Martha were gone did she give into the pain. Her body shook with sobs and spasms as she dry heaved. Tears rolled down her cheeks. An invisible force continued to rip her open, no doubt going for her heart.

A preacher ran up the street. "I told thee so! I told thee so! The world is ending in a mighty storm! This earth shall descend into the pits and the saved shall ascend! It's not too late! Repent! Repent and be saved!"

_Hurry, Doctor,_ she thought as she cried.

She heard someone settle down beside her. She peeked open her eyes, blinking away the tears, and saw a man kneeling in front of her. He had a narrow face, short brown hair, green eyes, and he was wearing what looked like clothes from her era—a t-shirt, hoodie, and trainers. He seemed to recognize her, but she was sure she'd never seen him before in her life. She whimpered in pain. He put his hand on her arm and stared at her, silently demanding that she endure.

Minutes passed. The wind roared, thunder boomed, and people screamed. Hundreds of voices laughed in the distance: the Carrionites entering the world through time and space. Rose wasn't fading, though. That meant it wasn't over yet. Whatever the Doctor was doing she hoped he'd hurry.

The man was her anchor through the storm and the agony of having reality torn apart so close to her. He didn't touch her except for the hand on her arm, which moved to her back when she started to dry heave again, but it was as comforting as a hug from the Doctor would have been at that moment. Gradually, the wind began to slow, the thunder diminished, and the screams faded and died, along with the pain.

Rose closed her eyes and sighed in relief, slumping forward. The man caught her and held her while she gathered her wits. She felt better than she had since emerging from the TARDIS. A weight she didn't know she'd been under was lifted from her shoulders. It was over. They were gone. And now she was going to go find the Doctor and Martha, drag them back to the TARDIS, and sleep for about a year.

"Are you alright, Rose?" the man asked. His voice was gentle, soothing.

"Yeah," she said, leaning away. "'m fine. Thank you."

"That was weird, eh?"

"Believe it or not, I've seen stranger. Like a bloke wearing 21st century clothes in 1599 London." She frowned. "Hang on a minute… You called me Rose."

"It's your name."

"Yeah, but how did you know that?"

"Because you told it to me." He said as if was the most obvious thing in the world, smiling a bit. "You know, it's fun getting to be the cryptic one for once. …God, you're so young. I almost can't believe it."

"Who are you?" she asked softly.

His smile deepened with fond familiarity. "A friend."

"You're not… Oh, God, you're not the Doctor, are you?" she asked quietly, staring into his eyes for any sign of her Time Lord.

The man shook his head. "No, actually, I'm a nurse. Come on, Rose, get up. I have to get back and you have to get to him." He got to his feet and held out a hand to help her up. "Or else he'll come along, and he can't see me yet."

Eyeing him warily, Rose accepted his hand and he helped her to her feet. He hesitated for a moment only to pull her into a hug that she reciprocated. He stepped away quickly, though, and stared at her again. There was something…odd about him. It was his eyes, she decided. They spoke of countless years of pain and strife, much like the Doctor's did when he was in a mood. Whoever he was, he'd been around a long, long time. Rose reached forward and pressed her hands to his chest, almost surprised when she didn't find two hearts beating beneath.

He smiled. "Nope. Go on. Get to the Globe."

Rose let her hands drop to her sides. "You're from my future," she realized.

He nodded.

"What's your name?"

"Can't tell you that. I was expressly forbidden to, actually. And I'm supposed to tell you to not mention any of this to him at all for about, eh, four or five years. Something about timelines snapping, the future crumbling, and the universe imploding." He shrugged. "I don't really see how but you know how he is. Be seein' you!" With another smile, the man turned and loped away.

Rose watched him go for a moment. She exhaled a laugh and headed for the Globe. Yeah, she knew damn well how the Doctor could be. But how did he?

She spun around, wildly looking for the man. She spotted him down the street, rounding the corner with a red-haired girl. She stared after them and realized, a slow smile spreading across her face, that she may have just met a future companion, and if his behavior was anything to go by, one that knew her quite well.

The thought settled well with her.

* * *

**So, who noticed our special guest? Lemme know ;) **


	10. The Dark Lady and the Glowing Girl

**YES. It is Rory. But don't let his presence give you any sense of security. I am quite an evil person and I already have horrible plans for these guys :) because it's Doctor Who and that is to be expected. **

**You all will hate me. Just thought you should know in advance. BUT that's not for a while yet so you can relax and enjoy this brief glimpse into the mystery surrounding Rose.**

* * *

The following morning, Rose was sitting on the stage of the Globe just a few feet away from Martha and Shakespeare who were each telling jokes that the other didn't understand. Rose understood them both, a testament to her experiences time traveling. She looked down at her cast and the newest addition to the autographs. _William Shakespeare_, written in elegant script. She wished she could go home and show her mum to prove she'd met Shakespeare. Jackie hadn't believed her last time.

Shakespeare pulled Martha close for a kiss and Rose lifted her head. Savior of the world or not, he'd still be getting a slap if he tried to take advantage of Martha.

"I've only just met you," she protested.

"The Doctor will never kiss you; he's got his own lady there. Why not entertain a man who will?"

Martha smiled a bit. "I don't know how to tell you this, oh, great genius, but…your breath doesn't half stink."

Rose giggled quietly, unable to completely restrain herself. "Oh, go on, Martha. How many women can say they got a kiss from Shakespeare? …Actually, wait. Don't answer that."

Shakespeare started to protest, but the Doctor arrived then with something frilly around his neck, what looked like a huge inhuman skull in one hand, and a weird brown hat in the other. "Good prop store back there!" he crowed. "I'm not sure about this, though." He held up the skull. "Reminds me of a Sycorax."

"Lemme see that." Rose walked over to get a better look. "Oh, my God, it does."

"'Sycorax?'" Shakespeare repeated. "Nice word. I'll have that off you, as well."

"I should be on ten percent. How's your head?"

"Still aching."

"Here." He reached up to unfasten the thing around his neck. "I got you this." He put it around William's neck. "Neck brace. Wear that for a few days till it's better, although you might wanna keep it. It suits you."

"What about the play?" Martha asked.

"Gone. I looked all over—every single copy of _Love's Labours Won_ went up in the sky. You missed it, Rose. It was quite a show."

"My lost masterpiece," Shakespeare said, resigned.

"You could rewrite it," Rose suggested.

"Yeaaah, better not, Will," the Doctor advised. "There's still power in those words. Maybe it should best stay forgotten."

"Oh, but I've got new ideas!" Shakespeare told him. "Perhaps it's time I wrote about fathers and sons, in memory of my boy, my precious Hamnet."

"Hamnet?" Martha frowned.

"That's him."

"Ham_net_?"

"What's wrong with that?"

"Anyway!" the Doctor interjected, reaching behind them to pick up the crystal ball that held the trapped Carrionites, still screaming and clawing at the glass. "Time we were off. I've got a nice attic in the TARDIS where this lot can scream for all eternity… and we've got to continue on our way; perhaps a stop in Freedonia so Martha can pick up some of her things."

"You mean travel on through time and space?" Shakespeare asked.

The Doctor's eyes widened. "You what?"

"You're from another world like the Carrionites and Martha is from the future. It's not hard to work out. But you…" he looked at Rose. "I can't tell which you are."

"Future," Rose admitted.

"That may be, but there's something about you that is not from this world. Regardless, I have seen you before, and I remember where now. It was several years ago. Your hair was longer and you were with another man."

"Yeah, that was him," she jerked her head at the Doctor. "In his last body."

"A soul that can have multiple bodies? It takes an amazing woman to love a man such as that."

She smiled.

"That's incredible. You are incredible," the Doctor told him.

"We're alike in many ways, Doctor. I sense your loss, your grief, your madness. But we both go on living, go on talking, go on hoping. We must. What else are we fit for?" Shakespeare tilted his head to the side. "I do not claim to understand what you have lost, but I know that you are not alone. Not entirely."

Rose and the Doctor moved at the same time, reaching out, their fingers twining together. He looked down at her and they smiled at each other.

"Keep her close, Doctor. Absence from those we love is self from self—a deep banishment."

The Doctor's eyes tightened and he squeezed her hand. "I know...and I would not wish for any companion in the world but her. And, yes, you can use that one, too."

Rose was glad he looked at Shakespeare then. Her breath hitched. She felt her eyes begin to sting and tightened her grip on his hand for a moment, feeling him squeeze back. She couldn't stop the blush she felt rising to her cheeks, either. Knowing how the Doctor felt about her and hearing him acknowledge his feelings, even if he didn't say them outright, were two completely different things. Her heartbeat increased and she felt a happy pressure in her chest. She caught Martha's gaze and saw that the other woman was barely concealing a grin and Rose smiled shyly back at her.

Shakespeare smiled at them for a moment longer. He then turned to the woman besides him. "Martha," he began, "let me say goodbye to you in a new verse. A sonnet for my Dark Lady." He grasped her hand gently and Martha looked over his head at the Doctor who wagged his eyebrows once.

"Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?" he began. "Thou art more lovely and more—"

"Will! Will! She's here! She's turned up!"

It was just as well that he was interrupted by the arrival of two of his actors, because Rose probably would've burst out laughing long before the Bard could've finished. She knew that sonnet thanks to the Doctor's attempts at introducing her to Shakespearian literature. Martha herself looked like she was about to have a heart attack at the realization that a famous sonnet was about her.

"We're the talk of the town!" the younger actor exclaimed. "She heard about last night! She wants us to perform it again."

"Who?" Martha asked.

"Her majesty! She's _here_!"

A grin slowly stretched across the Doctor's face as a fanfare began outside. A richly dressed older woman with a grand crown perched on her hair entered the pit, holding her skirt up just enough that she could walk without tripping. The elegant collar she wore reminded Rose of a flytrap flower. The two actors moved aside for the queen, bowing to her and the two guards that followed her.

"Queen Elizabeth the I!" the Doctor exclaimed, a kid at Christmas once more.

"Doctor!" she rasped.

"What?" he asked quietly, his smile fading.

Shakespeare turned to look at him curiously while Martha, sensing their impending flight, rose to her feet.

"My sworn enemy," the Queen growled.

"What?" the Doctor repeated dumbly.

"And you, brazen hussy!"

Rose was taken aback. "Ex_cuse_ me?"

"Off with their heads!"

"What?!" he protested.

"Never mind what!" Martha shouted. "Just run!"

The Doctor grabbed Rose's hand and ran through the door to backstage as the queen shouted, "Stop them!"

"See you, Will!" Martha waved. "And thanks!"

"Stop that pernicious pair!" the Queen ordered and Shakespeare laughed.

The guards chased them through the streets towards the TARDIS, shouting for them to stop. They weaved throughout the people, skirts hitched high so they wouldn't trip, and Rose wasn't sure whether or not to laugh or rage at being called a hussy. It seemed that there was no end to the list of British royalty that the Doctor had pissed off. She hoped that this queen didn't form some secret anti-Doctor group; they'd barely survived the last one!

"What have you done to upset her?" Martha asked as they neared the TARDIS.

"How should I know? We haven't even met her yet." The Doctor let go of Rose's hand to pull out his TARDIS key. He handed her the crystal ball as he unlocked the door. "That's time travel for you! Still, can't wait to find out!" He held it open and both girls rushed inside.

"That's something to look forward to," he murmured, grinning. The guards, only a few yards away now, stopped to aim their bows at him. "Ooh!" he quickly climbed inside the TARDIS, shutting the door just as an arrow whizzed through the air and stuck itself into the wood.

The TARDIS gave a mighty lurch as they entered the Vortex and they all fell to the floor. Rose stayed down though, shaking, and for a moment, Martha thought she was hurt or upset. Then she realized she was laughing!

It bubbled up from deep within her, filling the room with the fresh sound of giddiness. It had been so long since Rose had laughed so freely without the weight of circumstance pressing down. The TARDIS's rotor seemed to hum merrily along with her. It was infectious. The Doctor was grinning and Martha started laughing as well. There wasn't a singular reason for it, more of a combination of relief, victory, and the fact the Doctor had somehow (or, rather, _would_ somehow) make himself another enemy in the long line of British royalty.

Thank God he was on good terms with Queen Elizabeth III.

"Okay," Rose said when they'd calmed considerably. "I get how you could make yourself an enemy of the crown—_again_—"

"Oi!"

"—But what the hell did I do to earn the title of a 'brazen hussy?'"

"What the hell _will_ you do," he corrected.

"You know what I mean!"

"Well…there are a lot of things that could earn you that title in the 1500s. Ooh, this should be interesting. Do you want to go now or save it for later?"

"Later, please," Martha said. "I don't know about you two, but I haven't had a proper sleep since before I met you. I'd like to at least have a kip before we do anything else, if you don't mind."

"Sleep sounds good," Rose agreed.

"Ah, right, sorry about that," he apologized. "Can't have you keelin' over from exhaustion, now can we?" He was silent for a few moments, his hands flitting across buttons on the console. "Hmm, right then. Rose, you help her find a guest room, then meet me in the infirmary, please."

"Why?"

He looked up at her, all trace of amusement gone. "There're a couple scans I need to run. I'd like to know how much time we have. You know, so we can make sure we squeeze in a trip back to Queen Elizabeth and avoid a paradox."

"Doctor, I'm fine."

He shook his head. "Just get Martha settled and meet me there."

Rose's jaw tightened at his tone and she stared him down for a few moments. He glared right back. "Fine. Come on, Martha," she called stiffly. "Let's get you sorted." She stormed from the room without looking back and Martha wisely followed.

Rose walked through the halls without direction. The TARDIS would let her know when they found the room she'd been preparing for Martha. Martha followed her without question and a quick glance showed her meek expression. Rose felt bad. What would it have been like if she was in Martha's place, arriving on the TARDIS with a pair who had their own history, inside jokes and references, issues in the past that they were trying to resolve, and trying to make sense of it all and establish dynamics while adjusting to the whole time and space travel thing?

"Sorry," Rose apologized. "This is a lot, yeah?"

"Just a bit," Martha admitted.

"Would you like me to explain anything?"

"Please. I still haven't made up my mind properly, but—"

"But you'd like to know what you're signing up for," Rose finished with a smile. "I get it; I do. I really do need to get to the infirmary or he'll come hunting for me. But tomorrow, if you want."

"That'd be great."

Rose stopped in front of a blank door, and tilted her head to the side. Yes, this was it. "Here we are."

"What?"

"Your room."

Martha raised her eyebrows and looked the door up and down. "How can you tell?"

Rose smiled, tapping her finger to her temple. "Some doors are marked, some aren't. If you're lookin' for something that isn't marked she'll usually let you know."

"How? Does she talk?"

"No." Rose shook her head. "Just not in the way you're thinkin'. She doesn't work like that. She sends pictures…emotions…feelings. The Doctor always said I was more attuned to her than most so I don't know how well you'll be able to communicate with her, or if you even will be able to at all, so you might want to mark your door because rooms are almost never in the same place twice."

"You said that earlier." Martha was pleased she'd remembered. "So, can I just…go in?"

Rose nodded.

Martha reached for the knob, but then pulled her hand back slightly. "What's it gonna be like?"

"I have no idea."

Martha tilted her head curiously and turned the knob, slowly pushing the door open. The room was dark except for the light filtering in from the hallway, but it wasn't enough to make out much detail. Martha reached in to feel along the walls.

"Is there a light switch?" Martha asked. "Does the ship even have electricity?"

"In some places," Rose told her, nudging Martha into the room, "like the kitchen. Though, when it comes to the bedrooms… Unless you really want a lamp, the easiest way to get light is to do _this_."

She lifted her hand and snapped her fingers once, loud and purposefully.

The entire room was suddenly illuminated with light that came from nowhere and everywhere. Rose looked around the room with interest. The TARDIS had a knack for knowing exactly what would best suit the occupant of the room: from shape and size, wall colors and decorations, the furniture within and their styles, the prints of the linens, the size and feel of the bed, and even the scent of the room.

The walls of Martha's room were a light aqua blue that was oddly soothing. The floor seemed to be covered in a light brown carpet that felt soft beneath her feet and the ceiling was a deep indigo with tiny lights that were flickering gently, like a night sky. There was a window on the left side, hidden by light red curtains. When opened, it would show her anything from an alien landscape to a calm country to the view outside her window at home. She breathed in deep and she could smell pumpkin and spice and something else she couldn't place, but it reminded her of autumn. There was a closet with light brown doors, a wooden dresser, a single-person bed in the middle of the room (with an aqua and brown striped duvet on top), a few pictures, and a door that, presumably, would lead to her bathroom.

She looked at Martha and was unsurprised to see she had her hands over her mouth, eyes wide as she gazed around the room in awe. Rose grinned. "Well?"

"It's…oh, my God…it looks like home."

"Really?" Rose looked around with new interest. "Huh. Mine didn't so much. The Doctor says that the TARDIS knows what kind of room would make you most happy and she makes it that way to start. After this, if you decide one day you want bright pink neon walls, just _think_ about it and before long, you'll open the door and hello pink!"

"This is absolutely amazing. You're absolutely amazing!" she said to the ceiling. "Oh, I'm talking to a ship."

"Happens to the best of us. My first trip I caught myself talkin' to a twig!"

She laughed. "I don't even want to know. But anyway, how do I turn the lights off? Like this?" She snapped her fingers but nothing happened. "Oi! How come it's not working?"

"Like I said, she's more used to me," Rose said. "I don't even really have to think about it anymore. Used to be I had to think 'on' an' mean it to get 'em on. He said it was 'cos she wasn't used to the way my mind worked. Try it a few times. Let her get used to your thoughts. Remember, she's telepathic. Think 'off' or 'lights off.'"

"Okay." Martha closed her eyes, screwing up her face, probably thinking with all her might, and snapped. And then again. Nothing happened.

"Relax," Rose encouraged. "A whisper can be more meaningful than a shout."

Martha nodded, her face relaxing. She was still for a moment—and then she snapped her fingers once more. The lights died save for the twinkling 'stars' on her ceiling. "I did it," she breathed.

"Woo." Rose smiled.

She snapped her fingers again and nothing happened, but the time after the next the lights came back on.

"You're getting it," she said, folding her arms and giving the room another look. "Well, I think that's all. Oh—your closet's there and the loo should be through that door." She pointed to the respective doors. "You should find the clothes you left in the wardrobe in your closet, maybe a few more things in your size from there, too. If you need anything, just leave the room and start walking. You'll find us within a few minutes. Though, mind you, if you're ever lookin' for something and you don't find it within about, eh, ten minutes, you might as well give up."

"Why's that?"

"You're not meant to find it, or someone's inside that doesn't want to be found."

"And how would the TARDIS know something like that?"

"I told you, she's telepathic. She exists differently than we do. He tried explainin' it once but all it did was give me a headache. With the Doctor, sometimes you just gotta go with things and nod whenever he stops for breath."

"Sounds like a normal bloke. Oh, before you go, how do I…mark my door?"

Rose shrugged. "Whatever you want. Put a sticky note, tie a shirt to the knob, scribble on the door with marker, or you could even try asking for a different color of door. Same way you get the lights off. …Sleep well, Martha."

"You too. And good luck with… Well…" She inclined her head the way they'd come from.

"Thanks," she mumbled. "Night." She turned and walked out of the room, heading in the opposite direction of the control room.

Martha sighed and looked around at her room again with a smile. Not unlike her home—but at the same time, completely different. The branches of coral along parts of the walls definitely weren't in her house. Their color matched the room's color scheme; however, pretty as they were, the stalks were definitely alien. Another difference was the fact that there wasn't any lamp or overhead lights (except for the stars), but the room was still illuminated. The TARDIS had done a good job of mimicking the place Martha felt happiest—she would give the ship that—and she could, at the very least, fall asleep here peaceably.

_Like spending the night at a friend's_, she decided.

She looked down at the red dress she wore and realized suddenly that she had no idea how to unlace a bodice by herself. She started for the door, intending to call Rose back and ask for help—but then she stopped, one hand on the door, and frowned. She was a time traveler now. Even if she didn't decide to stay with them for long, there could come a time in the very near future when she needed to know how to do something like this the way someone native to the time would. So she turned away from the door and walked over to the mirror on the wall to figure out how the hell to undo the damn thing herself.

Meanwhile, in another part of the ship, Rose had found her room not far from Martha's, across from the Doctor's like it usually was these days. One of the big things about the TARDIS was that she knew what they needed, even if it wasn't what they wanted. Martha must have needed familiarity, something normal she could retreat to amidst the insanity of life with the Doctor. After returning from packing up her mum's flat, she'd opened the door and found herself standing in an almost exact replica of the room she'd grown up in, right down to the color of the duvet on her bed.

Though it seemed that the TARDIS had finally decided Rose was allowed to have her preferred room back: the walls were lavender with soft pink bordering, matching the duvet and pillows, and the carpet was TARDIS blue (the Doctor's idea of a joke; Rose couldn't convince the ship to set it right). Still, it was nice to have the room back to the way she liked, carpet included, and not to be reminded of her home in the Powell Estate every five seconds.

"Thank you," she murmured, running her hand along the wall. The ship hummed in response.

Rose smiled sadly and patted the wall then went about changing into her pyjamas. The Doctor was probably pacing, waiting for her to turn up, but she didn't care. Five extra minutes while she got herself sorted wouldn't hurt anyone. She removed the dress and the little bit of makeup that had survived their excursion, brushed the tangles out of her hair, and changed into the threadbare sweats and t-shirt hanging on the edge of her bed. She stood in front of the mirror and stared at herself again. She was doing that a lot lately.

_"You even look like him."_

Short, blonde hair that used to be past her shoulders–cut to be more manageable and so it wouldn't get in her face as much while she ran.

_"You've changed so much."_

A narrow face that used to be rounded and innocent—her innocence was long since gone, ripped away by the cruelness of the universe.

_"And you'll keep on changing."_

A lean body that used to be soft from a life of chips and telly—hardened under the strife of being the companion to Time's Champion.

_"She's not Rose Tyler. Not anymore. She's not even human…"_

Green eyes that used to not reflect pain and death—her eyes had gazed into Time itself and drawn it in.

"Mum," Rose whispered, putting her hands over her face. She swallowed and tried very hard not to cry because the last thing the Doctor needed was to see evidence of tears. He'd blame himself even more than he probably already was.

Jackie Tyler would never understand the impact of her words on her daughter, especially now when Rose's humanity was being questioned. Because what human can survive with huon particles in them? What human can feel obsolete magic being performed and gaping holes in reality? What human could stare into the eyes of a Judoon without flinching or make it through a naming without even passing out?

She pulled the TARDIS key out from under her shirt and cradled it in her hands. It was warm, which to her represented the life within the ship itself.

She hadn't been lying to Shareen when she said that this unimpressive piece of metal was the most valuable thing she owned. It represented her freedom, her home, and the madman who'd stolen her heart. She loved him. She'd loved him before he'd given her this little key. She'd barely known him, she'd been more than a little afraid of him, and yet the thought of him leaving her behind had scared her more than the Gelth-zombies, than the rays of solar energy inches from her body, than the army of shop window dummies. He'd given her the key to prove he wouldn't just leave her and, really, he hadn't.

_"What are you? What are you?"_

"Let's find out, shall we?" she asked her reflection.

When Rose got to the infirmary the Doctor was waiting for her like she'd expected, fiddling with the control panel on a device on the counter. Rose stood in the doorway with her arms folded and cleared her throat softly to catch his attention. He looked up at her, swallowing once, and then glanced back at the panel to press another button before turning and sliding his hands into his jacket pockets. They looked at each other for a few silent moments.

"I'm sorry," he finally said.

"You say that a lot, Doctor."

"And I mean it…almost every time."

"Oh? And when haven't you meant it?"

He rubbed the back of his neck absently. "Well…um…the other day, for example. I walked in on you singing in the kitchen as you made the tea. You got mad. I said I was sorry." He paused and grinned. "I wasn't."

Rose rolled her eyes. "You're never been sorry when you catch me singing."

"Not once," he agreed. "You have a lovely singing voice. Better than me."

"I s'pose," she mumbled, looking away.

He swallowed and lowered his hands to his sides. "I am sorry for earlier. I didn't mean to be rude."

"Just sort of happens with you, right?"

"Right. I… Just…" he exhaled loudly and Rose looked up to see his shoulders hunched under some unseen weight. She didn't wait for him to finish, walking forward to hug him, slipping her arms firmly around his waist. He didn't even really think,—it was an automatic response, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close as he buried his face in her hair. They stood like that for several minutes, just listening to each other's breathing, taking comfort in the closeness and the soothing rhythm of his heartsbeat.

Rose couldn't help it. She yawned loudly and buried her face in his chest. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head before stepping back, breaking her grip, and patting the bed. "C'mon. Up you get."

"Can't it wait?" she complained. "It's been a long couple of days."

"No, it really can't."

"What are you even lookin' for?"

The Doctor stared at her desolately. "They could be killing you, Rose. One day you might find yourself burning from the inside out. I need to know how long we've—" he stopped abruptly and turned away. She didn't need to see his face to know what he meant.

Without further questioning, she sat down on the bed and let him do his work. He shined the sonic in her eyes several times, each time with a different setting. She held her breath as he ran a scanner over her that looked like it was made from repaired parts of a record player. He took a vial of blood and a lock of her hair. He listened to her heartbeat, her breathing, and her pulse. Almost as an afterthought, he gave her broken arm another boost with the sonic.

Rose sat with her legs dangling off the bed, swinging her feet as she watched him analyze the results. His face was smooth like it always was when he was trying not to show how he felt, but she recognized the tightness in his jaw, the way his eyes were slightly crinkled. He couldn't hide things from her the way he could in his last body. She'd been with this form since its creation—hell, she'd caused its creation—and she knew all the expressions and motions, all the subtle nuances and reactions. She probably knew him better than anyone alive.

"I don't understand," he finally murmured. "They're there. They're definitely in you. I can see them! They're registering and everything. And from the looks of things, they've been there a while. Since the Gamestation, I'd say. When you absorbed the Heart you absorbed everything; not just time, but also the huon within her. I know I took the entire Vortex out of you and, well, obviously most of the huon particles…but not all of them. You should be dead, Rose. Do you understand?"

She nodded, her eyes staring straight into the Doctor's with complete and utter trust. "But I'm not."

"I know." He paused, simply looking back into her eyes for a moment. "And I hate this, but there's another round of scans I need to do, but then we can call it a night."

"Well, go on, then. 'm knackered." To prove her point, her mouth stretched wide in a huge yawn. She covered her mouth with the back of her hand and blinked a few times. "Sorry."

The Doctor reached into his pocket and pulled out a container, holding it out for her to see. "I kept a vial of the particles from the Torchwood lab. I've been studying them off and on since we left Donna. I was going to add them to the TARDIS for safekeeping, but I haven't gotten around to it yet. …Do you mind?"

"What?"

"You said you first noticed something when we were down in the lab. When I activated these." He gave the vial a little shake. "So, I figure the same thing will happen again. Then I can compare the scans and—"

"Get on with it," Rose ordered, pulling her legs up onto the bed and crossing them. "I trust you." The Doctor swallowed and moved directly in front of her. Her eyes didn't leave his for a second as she smiled and nodded encouragingly even though she was afraid. Because that's what you just had to do sometimes when you lived the life they did, even if no one was buying it.

He twisted the knob at the top of the container and Rose saw the contents glow before tingles ran along her skin and she shuddered, closing her eyes reflexively. The singing was back, wordless and hauntingly beautiful. She smiled to herself. When her eyes opened and she looked at the Doctor again, he nearly dropped the vial.

It was like being thrown back a year to the Gamestation, watching through different eyes as Rose—his beautiful, fantastic, stubborn, loving Rose—sat before him, glowing, golden, beautiful. It was like feeling the fear of seeing her as the Bad Wolf, hearing what she'd done and knowing that she would burn soon…and that it would be his fault. It was like feeling the utter _wrongness_ in time and space as she saved Jack from his extermination. It was like realizing what he had to do to save her, the woman he loved, who loved him in return, and calmly accepting it. That body had been born as he wanted to die and she'd made him want to live again. It only seemed right that that body died so she could live, and the next one was born with the desire to live, to protect and to love her so she never had to die for him.

And here she was again, sitting before him, glowing and golden and beautiful, always beautiful. It was a small consolation to see that her entire body wasn't shimmering like it had back then—just her eyes. The irises were completely golden, the pupils deep black like dark stars, glinting and shining. There was something else, too; something ancient. He leaned in closer and was immensely relieved when he didn't see Time looking back at him.

She wasn't the Bad Wolf.

His mind was racing, considering everything from science to logic to old philosophies to things in religions. Absolutely nothing was impossible as far as Rose Tyler was concerned. She'd proven that time and again.

He set the vial on the bed next to her, softly ordering her not to touch it, leaving to get his sonic. She sat patiently, head cocked to the side as if listening to something he could not hear—which, in all likelihood, was what she was doing. Whatever the case, she didn't seem to be in pain, and that was enough.

Rose let him run the scans, obeying silently, not touching the vial. The singing was soothing in her mind and she felt _safe_—but she still didn't want to touch them, just in case. While the Doctor tried to get his answers, Rose tried to get hers; the song was coming from somewhere. Songs didn't sing themselves. She listened harder, focusing in on the wordless melody.

"Are you okay?" the Doctor asked and her eyes flicked to him for a moment.

"I can hear the singing again. I…I hear it in my dreams sometimes."

"Singing?" he asked, relieved to hear her voice and not the layered one of the Bad Wolf.

"I…I remember…I heard it when I looked inside her…. Oh, it's _her_! The TARDIS. She sings, Doctor."

_Oh._ "I know," he said softly.

"And she loves you."

The Doctor smiled, lifting his eyes to the ceiling. "I know."

Then he cleared his throat and twisted the knob again. The huon particles within settled and their glow died. A moment passed and Rose remained the same, but before the Doctor could properly start to panic, the light in her died as well, the gold fading from her eyes. She blinked a few times, a slight frown on her face, and she swallowed.

"She loves you a lot," Rose murmured.

He smiled. "And I love her, too."

She closed her eyes, smiling. "She knows."

The Doctor walked with her back to her room, arm around her waist to support her. She'd been tired before she arrived in the infirmary and the brief stint with the active huon had drained her of most of her remaining energy. She was barely conscious when he gently ushered her into her room, noting the change in décor, and tucked her into bed. He sat on the edge of her mattress and gently stroked her hair in a soothing rhythm.

Sometimes—like right now, for instance—he couldn't believe what she'd done to him. Two years he'd known her. A measly two years out of more than nine hundred and never had he changed more drastically in such a short period of time, regenerations aside. Never had a single entity, let alone a young human, affected him in such a way. He felt like some of his past lives were scoffing at him except for his most recent. _He_ was shaking his head, smiling in understanding; because, after all, he'd died for that woman. The rest of them, however…well, if they were all brought together again for some reason, they could argue about it then.

He shook his head and looked down at the young woman sleeping on the bed. She was completely out and probably wouldn't stir for a good ten hours or more considering how much sleep she'd gotten recently and the strain on her body and mind. Martha would probably be the same. Rose's temper he could handle, but he had no idea how Martha would react to being awoken before she liked. If he wanted to avoid regeneration, it would probably be best to just let them sleep undisturbed.

The infirmary was closer than it had been when they'd left, by about two corridors, which meant he was close enough to reach her quickly if she had a nightmare but far enough away he hopefully wouldn't wake her up. He pulled off his jacket and tie, tossing them onto the chair, and steeled himself for the long night ahead. He had two dozen results to study and countless theories to work through. He was going to figure out what the hell was going on inside Rose Tyler.

* * *

**Did you know that gravity is only just a theory? It might not be true.**

**So I have my own theory about what keeps our feet on the ground. _The reviews people leave on fics_. Yep. That's it. So...you know...you should leave me some nice reviews because otherwise we're all going to float away and bump into things and eventually we'll all float up to the mesosphere where we will suffocate and freeze to death.**

**And that won't be very fun at all.**


	11. Getting Along

**I'M SUPPOSED TO BE DOING HOMEWORK BUT-**

* * *

The Doctor and Rose considered Martha a friend, a travelling companion. The TARDIS considered her a pet. Even without her strong link to the sentient ship, Rose could tell and she was pretty sure the Doctor knew it, too. The TARDIS had given Martha a comfortable bed, the appropriate food, and the appropriate toys, like any proper owner should, and she liked to play with her.

Early in the morning after breakfast, Martha went looking for the library and ended up in the console room. Four times. Rose went to help her and promptly located the library. Later in the afternoon, Martha went looking for Rose to help her find the library again, and wound up in the swimming pool. She took her jacket off and hung it from the door then quickly located the console room where the Doctor and Rose were to tell him she'd found it. Except, when they opened the door, they found themselves in a back entrance to the library.

"She likes you," the Doctor assured Martha on their way back to the console room. The medical student was glaring at him with her arms folded across her chest. "Honestly; she's just having a bit of fun. You're not the first, believe me, and I doubt you'll be the last."

"Did she do that to you?" Martha asked Rose.

"Er, no," Rose admitted. "She's always, um…liked me?"

She rolled her eyes pointedly.

"Do you have a pretty room?" the Doctor asked.

"What?"

"Your room. Is it pretty?"

"I guess so, yeah."

"Well, then. If she didn't like you she wouldn't have given you a pretty room," the Doctor said. "Last one she didn't like got a generic hotel room, and he ended up nearly getting us killed."

They arrived in the console room. Rose immediately returned to her perch in the pilot's seat and the Doctor went back to fiddling with the console. Martha leaned against the railing and watched them for a moment. Nothing was going on and she felt oddly like she was intruding. She wondered if she would ever truly be welcomed onboard. The ship didn't seem to view her on the same level as her other two occupants. The two of them seemed relatively comfortable with the silence, but to Martha it was awkward.

"So, um, what happened to him?" she asked. "That guy who nearly got you killed?"

"His name was Adam," Rose explained. "We picked him up from Utah in 2012."

"He wanted to make a mint by stealing secrets from the future. So, he got a door to his brain in the middle of his forehead to access it all. Ended up giving invaluable information about us and we nearly died." The Doctor sounded a little too cheerful, looking at something on the monitor. "I only take the best and he didn't quite reach the mark. So I dropped him back at home, brain door in all. Though, I do wonder how it went with his mother…"

"So," Martha held up her hand. "When you say 'don't get a brain door,' you're talking about him?"

"Yep. So, keep that in mind next time you're tempted to do something like record Shakespeare."

"Yessir."

"Oh, that reminds me!" The Doctor stepped away from the console and clasped his hands behind his back. "We haven't explained the rules to you, have we?"

"Rules?" Martha blinked. "There're rules? You mean besides 'don't ruin history?'"

"Oh, of course." Martha frowned. He was using that tone that made her feel like an idiot for not knowing something already. "Rule one: don't wander off."

"Except in the event of boredom," Rose interjected. "Or when presented with an opportunity to discover something important."

He shot her a look. "Rule two: always do what you're told."

"Unless what he tells you to do involves him dying or a bunch of people dying, then ignore 'im."

"Rule four—no, wait a minute—three: no pets. This includes dogs, cats, birds, raccoons, or humans."

"Or horses. But dogs with no noses from Barcelona are perfectly fine. Riiiight, Doctor?"

"No. If I can't go back for Arthur, you can't have one of those dogs."

"Rude."

"And still not ginger. Rule four: if we are in the past or the future and you see yourself, do not get close unless you absolutely have to, and under no circumstances should you touch. That's a paradox and paradoxes can mean reapers and, trust me, you never want to find out what a reaper is."

Rose didn't have a retort for that one.

"Rule five—oh, wait. Do you like pears?"

Martha blinked. "Uh, yeah. They're alright."

The Doctor made a face. "Well, rule five: no pears allowed onboard. You can eat those vile things all you like, but you'll do it on a planet and not on my ship."

"Why? Do they mess up the TARDIS or something?"

"No, I just hate them. Disgusting fruits trying to be apples and failing. Now apples, apples are fine, and you can bring an apple tree on board and we'll plant it in the garden."

"You have a garden?"

"And bananas! Bananas are good. One of the best fruits in the universe and you can bring as many of them as you like onboard. Oh, I should take you two to Vilengard."

"There was a factory there once," Rose explained. "It made sonic blasters and he didn't like that too much, so he took it upon himself to blow it up and plant a banana grove there."

"Bananas are good," was all he had to say in defense.

"Do you _like_ blowing things up?" Martha asked.

"No! Well, when I say 'no', I mean not exactly. Well…by 'not exactly' I mean…it's kind of fun…."

Martha asked if they were going anywhere today and the Doctor shook his head, claiming repairs needed doing and suggested she explore the TARDIS. Walking without a destination was the best way to discover rooms; the TARDIS was more inclined to impress. With their companion occupied, the Doctor and Rose retreated to the infirmary to go over what he'd found last night.

Rose stood beside him as he explained and compared scan results. "Look here? This is the first one I took, and here's the second when the particles were active. Do you see? It's like they were asleep and then they woke up. That must be why we've never seen any signs until now—they're dormant. They've been dormant for months. Like they were dormant in Donna until her wedding."

"But you said they woke up in her because of all the—the nerves and stress about her wedding. I'm stressed all the time."

"Good point," he muttered, combing his fingers through his hair in thought. "What were you feeling? When you absorbed the Vortex, I mean. What were your emotions?"

Rose swallowed, her eyes growing distant as she tried to remember. Her memories of the final minutes before Bad Wolf were fuzzy at best. "A bit of everything, I s'pose. I was…I was angry and scared. Determined, obviously…and desperate."

"Lots of adrenaline and cortisol, then?"

"I guess."

"So since you were really worked up when they were first introduced to your system, it could be that they're used to living in a chemical warzone. Just a theory."

Rose bit the inside of her lip and considered that. She walked over to the bed and pulled herself up, sitting on the edge. "So they're used to a stressed environment and it's never bothered them. That means they must've woken up 'cos of what happened in the lab, being around other active particles."

"It might have even been Donna's arrival that started it," the Doctor mused, sitting beside her. "Or else the TARDIS should've woken them up long ago."

"But they came from the TARDIS, so maybe…never mind."

"No, what were you going to say?"

She exhaled loudly. "Maybe since they're from the TARDIS, being near the source is normal to them, too. The particles from the lab were different and being near them sort of stirred up the ones in me."

The Doctor blinked and a grin stretched across his face. "Brilliant," he murmured.

"But what about me?" Rose looked up at him. "I mean…they're not killin' me, are they?"

"No sign of cellular degeneration, or atomic structures unraveling, or DNA morphing…nothing. You're as healthy as always. Well, except for…" he gestured to her arm.

"So I'm fine?"

"You've got huon particles fused with about half the cells in your body. You are far from fine."

"I meant they're not just gonna make me drop dead one day?"

The Doctor didn't respond, returning to the counter, and piled the scans altogether into one neat stack, sliding a rubber band around them. Rose slid off the bed and reached out, placing her good hand on his shoulder. He stopped moving for a moment, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, then opened a drawer and set the stack inside, pushing it shut, before he finally turned to face her. They stared at each other in silence. Rose moved her hand up to his cheek and she felt his jaw twitch beneath her hand. He opened his mouth to say something then changed his mind, sighing and pursing his lips.

"I don't know," he finally murmured. "I have no idea. There's no precedent. …You are unique, Rose Tyler, in more ways than one."

Rose smiled.

"So, we'll just have to keep an eye on you. If you feel anything change, anything new that you can't explain, you have to let me know, and if you ever feel like you're burning, even for a second—because that's what it will feel like—I don't care where we are or what we're doing; you _have_ to tell me immediately. Do you understand me? _Immediately_. A single second could be the difference between surviving and…and dying. And I can't lose you, Rose, I _can't_."

"You will, though, you know." She told him softly and he flinched, trying to turn away, but she put her other hand on his cheek, forcing him to look at her. "One day I'm gonna die. It's going to happen, no matter what, and when it does, you can't just stop and give up. The universe needs you."

The Doctor covered her uninjured hand with his and placed a soft kiss on her palm, staring somberly into her eyes. Then abruptly his mood changed and he was grinning. He took a step back and clasped both hands over hers. "Well, I'll tell you what, you're not dying today so let's go somewhere! How about we take Martha to dinner? I know this excellent tavern in 1870. I saved the owner's life a few centuries ago. Nice bloke, beautiful singing voice."

"I'm not gonna ask how you know that."

"Yeah, probably better that way," he agreed with a nod. "Well, what do you think? Sound like fun?"

"I s'pose, but Doctor—"

"Excellent! 1870s, here we come! You go find Martha and tell her the plan and find something to wear."

"Alright, then. Change your clothes, Doctor."

He looked down at his ensemble. "What's wrong?"

"You haven't changed since we got back from 1599 and your suit smells. So better add a shower in there, too. Don't look at me like that and don't think you can get by just' changing your shirt. Look at it this way," she added when he started to protest. "Now you won't be bored while she an' I are getting dressed."

He glowered at her but knew better than to argue. Privately he agreed with her but between his time in the infirmary and the work the TARDIS needed done this morning, he'd been too busy to stop by his room for a fresh change of clothes. So he let go of her hand, giving her a soft kiss on her forehead.

"And let's try not to land somewhere that needs saving, yeah? She might be starting to think that's all we do."

Rose located Martha fairly quickly, in the antigravity room of all places. Martha was drifting through the air lazily, her arms folded behind her head. Rose smiled, kicking off her shoes in the hallway, and stepped into the room. Her foot touched the ground for a second before the zero gravity registered and she pushed herself into the air. Martha rolled over and waved at her.

"Hey."

"Hey yourself," Rose smiled, kicking her legs to propel herself upwards. "You're not stuck or anything, are you?"

"Nope. Scared me at first but this is actually pretty fun. I'm flying!"

"How'd you find this place?"

"Well, I was just walking and opening doors at random, but then I started thinking about rockets and spaceships," she said. "Whenever you see footage of astronauts in space, they're always floating because there's no gravity. I opened a door, found this place, next thing I knew I was floating! Mind you, it feels really weird."

Rose looked around the blank white walls of the room. "Do you know how this room works?"

"It just cancels gravity, right? Like we're floating in outer space."

"That's not what I meant. This room is—you know how in films they use those green screens to add in backgrounds and stuff?"

"Yeah."

"Well, this room is like that. Give me a push, will ya?" She leaned towards the control panel on the wall and Martha gave her a shove. Rose glided over to the panel, grabbing onto the handle next to it so she wouldn't float off.

"Oh, I didn't notice that before." Martha squinted. "What's it do?"

Rose pressed one of the buttons and the room darkened. A second passed and the room was illuminated with thousands of stars twinkling around them. Martha flipped upright, gazing around in wonder. Rose smiled at the expression on her face. Usually she was the one being amazed at things, it was nice to get to do the amazing once in a while. No wonder the Doctor liked traveling with humans.

"We're in space," Martha exclaimed quietly. "Oh, my God…it's beautiful."

"This is my favorite setting," Rose told her. "It's as close to the real thing as you can get. Remind me later and I'll have the Doctor take us into space and you can sit on the edge of the TARDIS and look out."

Martha didn't appear to be listening, gazing at the ceiling in astonishment. Her mouth was open in a smile and there were tears in her eyes reflecting the starlight. Some of them spilled over the edge and trickled down her cheeks. Rose fell silent, allowing her a few minutes to enjoy the beauty of space.

"They all have names," Rose said quietly. "The stars. Each and every one of them and the Doctor knows 'em all."

"I'm dreaming, aren't I?" Martha asked. "I mean…I have to be. You an' him, you can't be real. This whole place just can't be real."

"Feels too good to be true, don't it?"

"Yeah."

"It's got its ups and downs. The universe is beautiful but it's ugly, too. When you're with the Doctor you get both. Oh, I almost forgot. There was a reason I came and found you. We were gonna take you to dinner. The Doctor says he knows this good place in in 1870. It should be nice and boring."

Martha looked at her, one eyebrow arched. "And what do you two consider boring? Saving a city instead of the world?"

"Boring as in 'absolutely nothing happens.' 'Cos, believe it or not, we don't just hop from one crisis to another. So, what do you say?"

"Yeah, sounds good to me. Um…how do we get out of here?"

Rose pressed the button to bring the lights back up and the stars disappeared, replaced by the white walls again. Martha looked a bit disappointed. Rose braced her feet against the wall then pushed off and rocketed towards the door, flipping over so she was going feet-first and would be able to land when gravity was reintroduced. Her body regained its weight as she passed through the door and her feet dropped a foot to the floor. Her momentum sent her stumbling forward and she caught herself on the wall.

"You alright?" Martha called.

"Yep. Come on, your turn!"

Martha flipped herself so her head was closest to the door and frog-kicked towards the door. Rose stood on the threshold, just beyond the antigravity field and held out her hands for Martha to grab.

"Alright, now just flip yourself so your feet—yep, like that." She pulled Martha out of the room and, unprepared for the sensation, Martha very nearly lost her footing, but managed to stay upright. "You okay?"

"Yeah." Martha nodded, letting go. "Just feels weird. I'm alright now, so which way's the wardrobe?"

A half an hour later, Martha and Rose were in the console room with the Doctor, all of them dressed and ready. The Time Lord had indeed showered and changed into his blue suit. His hair was down and fluffy like it was when he left it to it's own devices, and more suited to the time they were heading to this way. Rose thought he looked adorable like that.

"Ladies, you look lovely," he told them, his eyes lingering on Rose, who was wearing an off-shoulder white shirt and a cream skirt.

The Doctor managed to actually land them in the right time and place for once. They stepped out of the TARDIS at to find themselves looking at a scene from an American western film. Lots of wooden double-story houses and buildings, horses tied to posts, people strolling down the street enjoying the dusk air. A man on a horse galloped past them on their way out of town. He looked down at them and if he noticed something odd about the box behind them he didn't react, simply tipping his hat politely and continuing on.

"Was that guy wearing a cowboy hat?" Rose asked when he was gone.

"Yep," the Doctor said cheerfully. "I like those hats. I've got a few in the wardrobe somewhere. Well, Miss Tyler, Miss Jones—shall we?" He offered his arms to them and they headed into town.

"Are we in the Wild West?" Martha asked curiously. "Like in the films?"

"Well, the West wasn't really all that wild. Hollywood over exaggerated things, I'm afraid. That being said, I don't think we have to worry about getting hit by a stray bullet in an epic, violent gunfight in front of a saloon or caught up in an evil bank scandal."

"Blimey, you're like the ultimate tour guide to the universe, aren't you?"

"Actually, yes, yes, I am."

"Alright, then, where and when are we exactly?"

"We're in Haven, Utah in 1876." He told them. "This place started as an inn and a store built next to a creek. Settlers starting coming through heading west, they'd stop here to rest and resupply and water their animals in the creek. Word spread and soon the little homestead became an outpost, and now it's a town! Population stands at about three hundred people who live here and anywhere from a dozen to a hundred travelers. New people always coming and going—we'll blend right in.

"Lovely year, 1876," he went on cheerfully. "The very first Kentucky Derby this year—that's a horse race, if you didn't know—Alexander Graham Bell makes the first phone call—I was there, it was brilliant—and George Green patents the dental drill. Just over a decade out of the Civil War, the people are still expanding westward. There's a gold rush going on in the Dakotas right now and the former slaves are starting to earn their rights to vote."

"So I'm not going to get carted off, am I?" Martha glanced around nervously.

"Oh will you stop worrying about that?" He admonished with a frown. "People didn't randomly go around grabbing anyone with dark skin and forcing them to work. Not here, anyway. Besides, if anyone tried, they'd have to deal with me, and that is not something they'd like."

"So, where's the place, Doctor?" Rose asked.

"'s just ahead. Look, there it is. _The Yellow Moon_," he said proudly. "I helped name it after I saved his life."

"Do they know?" Rose asked. "The owner and his wife, do they know what you are?"

"Not entirely," he admitted. "They know I'm an alien but nothing else, so don't mention it. I'm already going to have one hell of a job convincing him it's me."

A man was just leaving when they arrived so he held the door open for them, tipping his hat respectfully to them. The Doctor looked around the room with interest, quietly noting changes to the décor. Almost entire first floor was one room supported by posts throughout. Tables were spread all throughout, about half of them occupied by men and women alike. One table in the corner seemed to be hosting a card game, and another had a group of smokers around it laughing at what must have been a damn good joke. A wide staircase to the right of the room that led upstairs was roped off with a sign hanging from it that said _Keep Down_. The bar was on the left side of the room. A shiny counter with a selection of drinks and a single menu of what was offered on the wall, and a door just to the side that, presumably, led to the kitchen. A middle-aged man with a shock of curly red hair stood behind the counter talking with one of the patrons at the bar.

"Is that him?" Rose pointed to the bar and the Doctor followed her gaze, a grin stretching across his face.

"Yeah, that's him. Joel Byrd. He used to have a beard. Must've taken my advice."

The man in question raised his head and noticed them. "Evening, strangers!"

"Hello, Joel," the Doctor replied cheerfully, guiding them to the bar. "Good to see you again."

Joel cocked his head to the side. "Do I know you?"

"Well, I should hope so, it's only been a couple of years. I'm the Doctor."

Joel Byrd's eyes registered perhaps the slightest bit of shock before he snorted. "I've met a few doctors passing through. You'll have to be a bit more specific."

"No, I'm not _a_ doctor, I'm _the_ Doctor."

"Like hell you are." Joel frowned, putting his hands on the counter. "See, everyone 'round here knows a man called the Doctor helped save us three years back, but I actually knew him. You, sir, are not him, so why don't y'all run along?"

"_The Yellow Moon_," the Doctor said evenly. "I was just joking when I suggested it but you thought it was brilliant."

Joel frowned. "Sure, everyone around here knows I saved the town from something but you and I know the truth about what that something was, don't we? Visitors from the stars, white tall humanoids with no hair and snake tongues: the Wartyxians. I was above the planet in my ship and I accidentally collided with theirs. It went down, landing just outside the town and they blamed you lot so they released a gas that night and would have killed everyone within ten miles if we hadn't intervened. They refused to allow me to negotiate since I'm not from around here, so you had to do the negotiations yourself. But the Wartyxian's communicate through song so you had to sing and after you mentioned it was my ship they hit, the lot of us had to sing back and forth to negotiate an antidote and repairs. The antidote released into the air that night made the moon appear yellow, 's why you chose to name the place _The Yellow Moon_."

By the time the Doctor was finished, Joel's jaw had dropped and his eyes were as round as saucers. "Doctor?"

The Doctor grinned. "Hello."

"What in the name of God happened to you?" He gestured to the Doctor's body. "You look…well you look…different."

"Same man, new face. It's an alien thing," the Doctor waved his hand. "Don't worry about it but, yes, it's still me. And this is Rose Tyler and Martha Jones." He nodded to each of them in turn. "They travel with me now."

Joel looked between Rose and Martha, smiling. "Pleasure to meet you both. Welcome to Haven. Though, Doctor, what happened to that charming young lady you were with? Peri, wasn't it?"

Rose raised her eyebrows and looked at the Doctor curiously. He'd mentioned some of his previous companions after running into Sarah Jane but this was the first she'd heard of anyone named Peri. A shadow flitted across the Doctor's face and she knew that whatever had happened to Peri, it was something he regretted deeply.

"Ohn she's…she's not with me anymore, I'm afraid. She…" he swallowed and changed topics quickly. "But, ah, Rose has been with me for a while and Martha's just joined us, actually. We were hoping we could have dinner here."

"Certainly." Joel smiled. "Have a seat at a table and I'll send Evangeline out. She'll be pleased to see you."

"How is she?"

"She's doing fine and recovering nicely. She insists she's well enough to work the kitchen again, but we've hired on some help."

"What happened?"

"She had a difficult pregnancy…" Joel's eyes darkened with the memory. "It was a miracle she survived giving birth, but she did, and now we have a little girl. Isabelle."

The Doctor's smile was blinding. "That's wonderful!"

A few minutes later they were seated at a table near the kitchen with Joel's wife, a slender blonde woman named Evangeline, while another young man minded the bar so Joel could join them. Evangeline's gray eyes scrutinized the Doctor intently for a moment and she said nothing, then she smiled and her gaze lost its intensity.

"It's good to see you again, Doctor. It's been a long time, hasn't it?"

"It's only been three years."

"A long time for you, I mean. …Pardon my rudeness, but what are you doing here? Last time you turned up, you kicked the sky-ship out of the stars and nearly killed us all."

The Doctor looked sheepish. "I am sorry about that. In my defense, they hit me."

"There's a shock," Rose muttered. "Doctor, your driving is rubbish."

"It wasn't my fault that time. Honest."

"We didn't bump into any ships on the way in." She assured Evangeline. "We're here for dinner and then we'll be on our way. And if he hits a ship on the way out, I'll have 'im."

Evangeline regarded the blonde woman and the new-Doctor, noting the way the way they sat close together, arms touching. Then she turned her attention away from the Doctor entirely and focused on his two companions. "Rose Tyler and Martha Jones. You're from far away, though not as far as him, I should think. So many strange things where you're from…we must look so simple to you." Her voice softened, her eyes becoming distant. "Haven is unimportant—you did not mark it when you sang."

"I apologize," Joel said after a moment of silence. "She's…sometimes she says things that are a bit odd…she doesn't mean anything by it."

Evangeline looked down, blushing.

"No it's alright. You're a low-level psychic, I told you that," the Doctor assured her, then to Rose and Martha he explained, "One person in about every million is. It's not like witchcraft or anything; she's just a bit more psychically aware than the average human. Clairvoyance is the most common."

She stood up abruptly and smiled. "Well, you came for a meal, so that's what you'll get. I'll let you up to meet Isabelle after."

"Actually, Mrs. Byrd." Martha held up her hand. "Um, in London, I'm a doctor. Your husband said you had complications during your pregnancy. If you'd like, I can give Isabelle an examination, see if she's healthy."

"You are not a doctor, miss, not quite yet, but I would be grateful if you would. We have no doctor in this town, the nearest one is five miles away." Evangeline cocked her head to the side, gazing at them almost dreamily. "When I last saw you, Doctor, you were one of many, now you are the last. And you, little Wolf, you have all of time in your eyes…" She walked away then, her curly hair bouncing with each step, and disappeared into the kitchen.

* * *

**I am proud to say I have converted three of my friends to the fandom. They are all addicted, two of them WTFed about the Face of Boe, one of them I recorded watching Doomsday and Blink, and one of them hates me and my roommate because apparently Doctor Who is ruining her life. How odd. I have no idea what she's talking about. Doctor Who ruin someone's life? Of all the ridiculous...**

**Drop a review on the way out! I have back to back classes on Tuesdays. Gimmie somethinggood to read while I get distracted during the lectures. **


	12. Carjackers

**Sorry for the delay. I've been working on a chapter for my Hunger Games story. I've been seriously neglecting it.**

**Also, everyone should go check out the event Tally Day on Facebook (facebook dot com/events/409939915760359)**

** Basically, on April 23rd this year, all Whovians should walk around wearing tally marks on their skin. Freak out Whovians who didn't know and totally weird out the non-believers (everyone else). Go look at the page for more info. **

**Now enjoy!**

* * *

It was moments like this—standing just outside the TARDIS in the pouring rain in a back alley after being promised sun, clear skies, and apple grass—that Rose Tyler rued the day she first met a Time Lord who failed his driving test. She shot an angry look at him as she pulled the hood of her favorite gray hoodie over her head.

"Oh that's nice!" Martha grouched, zipping up her jacket. "Time Lord version of dazzling!"

"Nah, bit of rain never hurt anyone." the Doctor insisted. "Come on, let's get under cover!"

The Doctor took Rose's hand and pulled her through the street. It was dirty, like any poor town. Dumpsters here and there, lots of rubbish everywhere, and someone had laundry swinging from a line. Considering his track record, they'd probably ended up on the original Earth in the future.

"Admit it, Doctor, you got the flight wrong again!" she shouted.

"No I didn't! I was trying to go further into the future and not near the hospital. I did it! We _are_ on New Earth, though!"

"Well, it looks like same old Earth to me, on a Wednesday afternoon." Martha informed him.

"Hold on, hold on. Let's have a look." He let go of Rose's hand and ran over to a blank screen in a small, covered alcove. Pulling out the sonic screwdriver, he shined it across the dead screen. Static appeared and he smacked the top of it then an image of a beautiful woman appeared on screen.

"—and the driving should be clear and easy." She was one of those sunny types. Even five billion years in the future they still had people who were chronically cheerful. "With fifteen extra lanes open for the New New Jersey expressway."

The image changed to the view Rose had seen the last time they were here. A bright clear blue sky over the beautiful spiraling buildings of New New York, the sunlight reflecting off the river, as the flying cars zoomed through the air in a beautiful, organized pattern out towards the grass.

She smiled fondly at the memories that view brought back. She and the Doctor had spent time in the grassy hills the first time they arrived. He'd spread his jacket out and they'd laid on the ground, watching the city and sky as the wind had blown their hair, the smell of the apple grass had tickled their noses. She'd marveled at how different he was and how much remained unchanged. _Same man. New face._ Their first journey since his regeneration, and their first time really alone. She'd been working on sorting her feelings, trying to accept in her heart what she knew in her mind: that the skinny, big-haired, happy man was the same being as the man with short hair and big ears who liked to brood. She'd been getting there, but it was on that hill that she really fell in love again.

"Oh that's more like it! That's the view we had last time." He tapped the screen then peered out from under the cover of the alcove. "This must be the lower levels, down in the base of the tower. Some sort of under-city."

"You've brought me to the slums?" Martha asked huffily. "My first trip into the future and he brings me to the projects."

"Hey, don't forget, my first trip, he took me to the bloody end of the world," Rose reminded her.

"Oh, the slums!" She gave him a thumbs-up. "This is great, Doctor!"

He grinned, either missing the sarcasm or ignoring it. "Isn't it? Much more interesting down here, anyway. It's all cocktails and glitter up there. This is the real city."

"You'd enjoy anything," she muttered.

"That's me. Oh, the rain's stopping! Better and better!"

"Doctor, you said sunlight and apple grass. I see neither. Let's get back in the TARDIS and try to land up top, yeah?"

A noise behind her caused Rose to jump. She spun around, backing towards the Doctor as a part of one of the walls behind lifted up revealing a tall man in what looked like some sort of stall. "Oh! You should have said!" the man greeted. "How long you been there? Happy! You want Happy." He ducked behind the counter and another stall opened up behind them.

"Customers!" a very dark woman shouted down to another stall. "Customers! We've got customers!"

A grinning plump woman opened that stall. "We're in business! Mother, open up the Mellow, and the Read!"

"Happy, Happy, lovely happy Happy!" the man held up some packets and shook them.

"Anger! Buy some Anger!" the dark woman held out a packet as well.

"Get some Mellow," the plump woman told them with a smile. "Makes you feel all bendy and soft all day long!"

"Don't go to them. They'll rip you off," the man said to the potential customers. "Do you want some Happy?"

"No, thanks," the Doctor responded flatly.

Rose looked up at him. "What's this? They didn't have this last time."

"Are they selling drugs?" Martha asked.

The Doctor slowly turned, looking from one stall to the next, and murmured, "I think they're selling moods."

"Same thing, isn't it?"

"Hey, Doctor…five quid says that Sally woman from the screen's on Happy." Rose muttered, trying to lighten the mood. Before the Doctor could respond the cries of the vendors picked up with new vigor at the arrival of a thin, pale-faced woman wearing a dark coat and a scarf over her head. They beckoned to her almost like she was a dog wanting a bone. She headed for the friendliest-looking of the vendors: the plump woman with a nice smile.

"I want to buy Forget," she quietly told the vendor, looking up at the woman behind the counter like she was her savior.

"I've got Forget, my darling. What strength? How much you want forgetting?"

"It's my mother and father. They went on the motorway."

"Oh, that's a swain." The vendor frowned sympathetically and reached behind her and produced a small round slip, holding it out to the woman. "Try this. Forget 43. That's two credits."

The woman accepted the Forget 43 and gratefully handed over the money. She turned away, looking down at the tiny strip in her hand like it was precious.

"Sorry," the Doctor walked towards her, holding out his hand. She looked up. "But—hold on a minute. What happened to your parents?"

"They drove off," the woman explained.

"Yeah, but…they might drive back?"

The woman shook her head, her eyes full of sorrow. "Everyone goes to the motorway in the end. I've lost them."

"But they can't have gone far. You could find them."

The woman looked at him for a second, shaking her head, and with a sigh she pressed the patch to her neck.

"No, no—no, don't!"

Too late. The woman's grief melted away so suddenly, so entirely, that it was like it'd never been there at all. She smiled serenely, a vacant look in her eyes. Her voice was lighter, more feathery than it had been a second before, "I'm sorry, what were you saying?"

"Your parents. Your mother and father—they're on the motorway."

"Are they?" she shrugged. "That's nice."

Rose's lips parted in disbelief. Impossible. That was impossible. She knew the kind of grief that woman had been feeling. The aching loss of losing one's parents. She'd felt it after holding Pete as he died and after saying goodbye to her mother. It was not something you could just _get over_ in a matter of seconds. That—that…_thing_, whatever it was, it had made her forget the grief, or her emotions towards her parents, or something like that. It was wrong.

"I'm sorry, I won't keep you." The woman gave them another smile then drifted away, seeming quite out of it. They watched her go.

"So that's the human race five billion years in the future." Martha sounded disgusted. Rose turned to look at her sadly. It was hard, she remembered, realizing how ugly things could be. "Off their heads on chemicals."

If she hadn't been looking, Rose wouldn't have seen them coming. Two figures moved in the smoke behind Martha, approaching quickly, and her stomach clenched in alarm. She didn't stop to think, diving forward to pull Martha back. She grabbed her arms, but her momentum caused them to swing around so when the two figures arrived it was Rose who found herself being grabbed from behind. Before she could react there was an arm was around her neck and she was stuck.

Martha screamed at the same time Rose gasped and the Doctor whirled around. His eyes locked onto hers for a moment before his face twisted with fury. "LET HER GO!" he roared.

"I'm sorry, I'm really, really sorry!" the man who was holding her said. "We just need three, that's all!"

"Get the hell off me!" Rose screamed, struggling against his grip.

"I'm warning you—_let her go!_" the Doctor shouted.

"I'm sorry! I'm really sorry!"

"GET OFF!"

"Let her go! _Rose!_ LET HER GO!"

Rose gritted her teeth, clenched her fist, and rammed her elbow into her captor's stomach. She felt his grip loosen and she hit him again and was able to turn. She slammed her foot down onto his before breaking his grip and shoving him into the side of the rubbish bin. She darted past the woman into the safety of the Doctor's arms. He her protectively for a second and then pushed her behind him. The two would-be kidnappers abruptly found themselves facing an angry Time Lord and on the business end of a sonic screwdriver.

"How dare you!" he shouted at them. The sonic screwdriver buzzed and the guns in their hands shuddered. They dropped them with cries of pain and the Doctor's face twisted in disgust. "They're not even real. Oh, that's clever, but trying to snatch her definitely was _not._"

"We're sorry," the woman sniveled. "Please, we only need three."

"Three for what?!" the Doctor demanded, stepping closer and pointing the screwdriver at her.

The man put his arm between her in the Doctor. "No! Please, we didn't—we just need three."

"You're not being very clear here, but I think you're smart enough to understand what kind of trouble you're in. You just threatened someone I care about and that is not a smart thing to do. So you better answer me now and you'd better tell the truth, because this is your one and only chance to save yourselves. Three. For. WHAT?"

"For the fast lane!" the man screamed. "What else?!"

"What's the fast lane? Is that part of this motorway?"

"Y-you—how do you not know what the motorway is?"

"We're from out of town," the Doctor growled between his teeth. "Why do you need three?"

"To get access to the fast lane you have to have three adults onboard. No one we know is willing to go with us so—"

"So you thought you'd just come along and snatch Rose so you could get where you're going a bit faster?"

He was furious. Martha had thought she'd seen him angry when Shakespeare accused Rose of witchcraft, but now she realized he'd only been ticked off. This—_this_ was anger. Everything about him, from his expression to the way his fingers clenched around the sonic screwdriver, screamed of his fury at the two humans would _dare_hurt Rose. Briefly, Martha wondered if she would ever find someone willing to defend her this way. The Doctor would kill these people, she realized, if they didn't convince him otherwise, and Rose was just standing there, letting him.

"We would've let her go," the woman assured him. "She could've come back once we got there. We wouldn't have hurt her."

"And you think that gives you the right to kidnap her?" the Doctor spat furiously, turning the screwdriver towards her.

The woman flinched away and the man moved to shield her more with his body, but not before Martha saw her hands protectively cover her stomach. Her eyes widened in shock. The only time she'd ever seen do that was if she was hurt or—

"Doctor!"

"WHAT?"

"Doctor, stop it for a second! Just stop!"

The Doctor turned his head, teeth bared at frustration. Martha looked at him pleadingly. He exhaled through his nose, waiting. She held up her hands calmingly and walked slowly towards the sobbing couple like they were a pair of wounded animals. They inched away at her approach.

"My name's Martha," she told them. "I'm a doctor. What are your names?"

"I'm…I'm Milo," the man said after a moment. He was a tall bloke, though not as tall as the Doctor, light skinned with close-cropped dark hair. "This is Cheen, my wife." She was just taller than Martha, with wavy brown hair past her shoulders.

"Cheen, are you pregnant?" Martha asked.

The woman nodded slowly, wiping the tears from her eyes.

"Is that why you need to get to where you're going quickly?"

She nodded again. "Yes. We…we only just found out last week. Scan says it's going to be a boy. We—we couldn't stay here."

"Well, congratulations." They both smiled. Martha turned to look at the Doctor who'd calmed slightly. "I think you can put that down, now, Doctor."

"I thought you were the doctor," Cheen said.

"No, I'm _a _doctor. His name is the Doctor. Long story. But he's not gonna hurt you now, _is he_?" She threw him a pointed look.

Rose finally moved then. She took two steps forward and put her hand on the Doctor's back between his shoulder blades. Martha watched a tiny ripple pass through his body and the Doctor exhaled loudly, lowering the screwdriver. His glare lingered on them for a moment then he turned around and pulled Rose into a firm hug, burying his face in her hair. He'd calmed down enough that she no longer feared for the couple's lives, but his anger was still there, waiting.

Martha let them have a moment, addressing the would-be kidnappers to draw their attention away. "That wasn't very smart, trying to take Rose. You're lucky I caught on about the baby. He doesn't take kindly to people that try to hurt her."

"We weren't gonna hurt her," Milo mumbled.

"And, we were actually going for you." Cheen admitted. "She got in the way."

Martha had a good retort coming on, but just then the vendors seemed to realize the drama was over and no one was getting dragged off or murdered.

"Hey, you lot! You all want some Happy now?"

"I've got lots of Mellow! You could do with a bit of Mellow, I think!"

"Oh, put a sock in it!" the Doctor bellowed at them and the vendors, having witnessed the skinny stranger when he was angry, wisely shut up.

He turned to Milo and Cheen, keeping one arm firmly around Rose's waist. "You're just trying to provide for your unborn child, is that it?"

Milo nodded. "Yeah. We're heading to Brooklyn. Everyone says the air is so much cleaner there."

"And you can actually go, well, outside." Cheen added excitedly. "They say the sky is blue…and the sun is warm…and that the air smells like apple grass."

"It does—wait, hang on." Rose held up her finger. "You mean to say…you've never seen the sky?"

Cheen and Milo shook their heads. "No one has, not in our lifetimes anyway."

Martha felt a bit sick at the thought. Never seeing the sky, not once in your whole life? Never feeling the sun? "You're bluffing," she accused. "That's impossible. How could you have never seen the _sun_?"

"I'm not lying. Look," she lifted her hair, revealing one of those mood patches on her neck. "Honesty patch."

"You idiot! You're pregnant and you've got weird drugs in your system?" Martha reached forward and ripped the vile thing from Cheen's neck and the woman yelped quietly in pain. "Don't use those while you're pregnant. Your baby could come out with—with three eyes or something!"

"That's not as odd as you think," the Doctor told her quietly. "You and Rose, you're the only two pure humans alive today. Everyone else, all the hundreds of billions of humans alive all across the universe, they've all got a bit of something else in them, somewhere along the line."

"You're kidding."

"Nope!" he responded cheerfully. "You lot, you're compatible with almost anything. That's why you've survived this long. Anyway," his tone darkened. "There is something seriously wrong here. I need to hear the full story. Everything you know. And then, _then_, I may be able to help you get to Brooklyn."

"What? Right here, right now?" Milo glanced around the street.

"Unless you've got some place better."

"Our home," Cheen offered. "It's a bit small but we'll all fit."

"Then let's go," the Doctor said, unsmiling.

Milo and Cheen picked up their fake guns and motioned for the three time travelers to follow them towards a door.

"Sure you don't want some Happy?" the plump vendor offered to their retreating forms. "Then you'll be smiling, my loves!"

The Doctor rolled his eyes and turned around, glaring at each of the three people in the stalls. "Word of advice, all of you. Cash up. Close down. And pack your bags."

"Why?" she asked.

"Because as soon as I've figured out what the hell is going on this planet—and I will—then I'm coming back and this street is closing. Tonight." He gave each of them another look then spun back around and followed the group out.

Milo and Cheen's home wasn't exactly what they'd expected.

"Welcome to car 4-6-5-diamond-6," Milo gestured to the thing that resembled a train car. Cheen pulled a sliding door open in the side and motioned them in.

The Doctor didn't move, his arm around Rose. "I thought you said we were going to your home."

"This is our home now," Cheen explained. "When we decided we had to get away from here we sold our flat and all the belongings we didn't really need to afford the car and our supplies." She rubbed her hand up and down the side of the doorway for a moment. "Home sweet home."

"If you try to take off with us inside, you'll never reach the motorway," he promised.

They nodded and Milo climbed into the car. The Doctor followed, helping Rose and Martha in, then Cheen. "Sorry, you'll have to stand or sit on the floor. I'm afraid there's not much room." Milo apologized from the driver's seat. "It's an older model. It's all we could afford."

Cheen started to shut the door but the Doctor stopped her. "I'd prefer if you left that open."

She lifted her hands from the handle and backed away. "We're not gonna drive off, honestly." she huffed as she dropped into the seat next to her husband.

"You tried to kidnap one of my companions. I'm sure it's not too hard to see why I don't exactly trust you."

"We really are sorry."

"Hmm," he muttered, noting the various boxes they had piled in there. "You said you were heading to Brooklyn? Well, that's not far. Why do you need all this stuff? What's this…" he picked up a package from one boxes and looked at it. "Muscle stimulants?" he rummaged around a bit more. "Diapers? Baby clothes? …You couldn't get this stuff when you get to Brooklyn?"

"Don't be daft," Milo laughed. "There wouldn't be any point then."

"Why? You've got at least six months, depending on how human you both are, until the baby comes. You should be settled by then."

Milo and Cheen exchanged disbelieving looks. "They don't know," Milo murmured. "Oh my God, you really don't know? About anything?"

"I know more things than you could ever imagine," the Doctor told him. "But regarding what's going on here and now, I know absolutely nothing and I'm really starting to get annoyed. Talk."

"The Fast Lane makes the journey shorter, but it's still ten miles travel." Cheen explained.

"So?" Martha tilted her head. "That's not far. How long's it gonna take?"

"About six years."

A beat of silence passed then the Doctor surged forward. "What do you mean six years? Why would traveling ten miles take six years? And hang on—you said you were gonna let her go when you got there. Do you mean to say you would've kept her for _six years_ in this tiny bin of a car?"

An angry Doctor and in a tiny space was not a good thing, and though she wasn't to thrilled at the realization she might've been trapped in here for over half a decade, it wasn't going to happen and he couldn't punish them for something they didn't do. Rose grabbed the Doctor by the hand and yanked him back between her and Martha before he could go off on a tirade or worse. "Doctor," she said firmly. "Stop it."

The Doctor met her eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, squeezing her hand, then looked at the couple in the front seat. "I haven't been here in a while. Did you ever hear about a big incident at the New New York Hospital involving the Sisterhood?"

"Oh yeah," Cheen nodded. "Everyone has. My cousin married one of those New Humans. Nice guy, a bit slow, but she loves him."

"How long has it been since then?"

"About thirty years."

"Okay," he nodded. "So tell me everything you know about the past thirty years, the motorway, those mood patches…everything."

Milo and Cheen told him about the way things worked in the Undercity. The various areas like Pharmacy Town and Lower New Midtown; what passed for school; all about the mood patches. They were streetwise, both of them, but they didn't know as much about _why _the way things were the way they were. Like, they knew the walkways and flyovers were closed, sealing them off from the Uppercity, everyone did, but no one knew exactly why. Just like no one knew why the police never responded. If you called you were always put on hold. People had turned to citizen's arrest or just sorting things themselves if they had to. Crime in the city was diminishing as more people went to the motorway, where the crime rates were escalating.

"So…there's not contact from the Uppercity? Ever?" Martha asked. "No police, no medics? No official broadcasts?"

"Well, there's the news," Milo said. "Sally Calypso's always on time with the weather and conditions and stuff."

"Sally Calypso? That woman on the screen?"

"Yeah, that's her."

"But no police?" The Doctor looked at the car's communication terminal. "So if I were to ring them right now…I wouldn't get anything?"

"They'd put you on hold."

The Doctor looked disturbed. "Since when do _police_ put people on hold?"

"Since at least twenty years ago, I'd wager." Cheen leaned back in her seat, staring out the window.

"Tell me about the motorway."

And so they did. People wanting out of the Undercity hopped on the motorway and once they did, you'd probably never see them again. Which explained the woman's behavior earlier. Dozens of ordinary lanes, only one fast lane—supposedly you could get up to thirty miles per hour down there! There were hundreds, thousands of cars on the motorway, all of them trying to get somewhere. Sometimes people would put on oxygen masks and stand on the laybys to watch the cars do nothing, make bets on how long it would take for something to happen, or talk to people in the nearby cars who risked opening their doors for a quick chat, possibly to ask for fresh food.

"Hang on," Milo interrupted Cheen's tale of the one time she'd been paid to fetch some food for a family in a car. He was looking at the clock. "Time for the daily contemplation, or thereabouts." He turned the car on and the Doctor whipped out the sonic screwdriver.

"Oi, easy!" Milo shouted. "I have to have the car on for the screen to work. Look, see?" The woman from before, Sally Calypso, was on screen and talking. He flicked a switch and the speakers hummed to life.

"—the sun is blazing high in the sky over the New Atlantic, the perfect setting for the daily contemplation." She wasn't as cheerful as she'd been before. A soft melody began to play over the speakers. It sounded vaguely familiar. "This is for all of you out there on the roads. We're so sorry. Drive safe."

Then Milo and Cheen started singing. From outside the car, from the speakers themselves, other voices could be heard as well—hundreds of voices, thousands, maybe millions—all singing the words of a song billions of years old, from Earth, together.

_On a hill, far away_

_Stood an old, rugged cross_

_The emblem of suffering and shame._

Rose knew the song. She'd never been particularly religious, though she and Jackie had been to church every now and then. Usually it was only for Christmas or weddings or occasionally just out of the blue. But she'd heard the hymn in service once or twice; she'd tried her best to sing well (if there really was a God, she didn't want to offend him by singing off-key) and remembered her mum softly singing with her. She closed her eyes, imagining she could hear her mother singing along with these people now. The people of the Undercity, who, she was beginning to realize, were trapped down here.

Tears began to trickle down her cheeks. She looked at Martha and saw that she was similarly affected. The Doctor simply looked out the doorway, his expression neutral.

_And I love that old cross_

_Where the dearest and best_

_For a world of lost sinners was slain._

She could feel the Doctor's body next to hers. She could imagine her mum was standing on her other side, just not close enough for touch.

_So I'll cherish the old, rugged cross_

_Till my trophies at last I lay down_

_I will cling to the old, rugged cross_

_And exchange it some day for a crown._

The hymn ended, Milo shut off the car, and silence fell. Martha wiped away her tears with the back of her hand and eased herself onto the floor. The Doctor held Rose close as the tears continued to drip from her eyes, moved by the hymn and her response. He rubbed his hand soothingly up and down her back and gradually her tears stopped.

"She apologized before," Rose's quiet voice broke the silence. "Why did she apologize?"

"We dunno," Cheen murmured. "She apologizes a lot…but never says what for. Everything, I suppose."

The Doctor's voice ended the somber spell in the car. "I'll take you to Brooklyn. You and anything in here you'll need. Sell the rest, get your money back—we won't be able to fit your car through the doors of our ship but you can buy a new one there. You'll be seeing the sky before long."

"You can actually get us out of here?" Milo asked.

"Of course!"

"How?"

"Same way we got in."

Cheen narrowed her eyes. "At what cost? How do we pay you?"

"You don't have to," the Doctor promised. "Just get packing."

A shape appeared in the doorway, head down, dressed in all gray, and with a big gun over its shoulder. It started to climb into the car and Cheen screamed. The Doctor turned, raising his screwdriver in one fluid movement.

"Don't move a muscle!"

The figure froze then lifted its head. It was one of the Catkind—female, by the look of her. When her eyes found the Doctor they lit up and she smiled, both relieved and desperate at the same time. "Praise Santori! You've finally come back, Doctor! You have to come with me right now!"

"Do I know you?"

"You haven't aged at all," she murmured in quiet amazement. She noticed Rose standing at the Doctor's shoulder. "Nor you, Rose Tyler. Exactly the same as when I last saw you. Time has been less kind to me." She looked down meekly.

"Oh my God," Martha whispered. "She's a _cat_."

"Novice Hame!" the Doctor exclaimed suddenly, recognizing her. He shoved the screwdriver into his pocket and reached forward to embrace her, grinning for a moment, then his grin fell away and he shoved her back. "No, hold on, get off. Last time we met, you were breeding humans for experimentation."

"She was doing _what_?"

"Are you one of them that created the New Humans?" Cheen asked, peering over the top of her seat.

"I…I was one of the Sisterhood," Novice Hame admitted. "But I've sought forgiveness, Doctor, for so many years, under his guidance. And if you come with me, I might finally be able to redeem myself."

"I'll come later," he told her. "I'm taking these two to Brooklyn."

"Oh, but you can't!" she cried. "There's nothing there! Nothing anywhere but here, nothing but these people."

"Are you referring to the lack of official authority for the last twenty years?"

"Twenty-four years, actually, and whatever they've told you, believe me, the situation is even worse than you can possibly imagine."  
___  
_He considered her for a moment. "Fine, but they're coming with me."

"I only have enough power for two."

"Then I'm not going. I am not just leaving them here."

"Oh, but you must!"

"Go with her, Doctor," Rose instructed. "We'll stay here and help them load into to the TARDIS."

"But—"

"Go."

"Thank you, Rose Tyler." Novice Hame didn't wait, grabbing the Doctor's wrist with one hand and pressing a button on her wristband.

"Oi! Don't do that—" the Doctor started to say and then they vanished into a burst of white light.

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	13. The Face of Boe

**I have no solid problems with the episode Gridlock, I just felt there was no need to drag it out. So here's the last part :)  
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The Doctor had rubbish timing sometimes. It wasn't his fault, he hadn't exactly had a way to contact them until then since he didn't carry a mobile, but that didn't stop them from wishing he'd come on the screen _before_ they'd loaded all of Cheen and Milo's stuff into the TARDIS and went through the whole bigger-on-the-inside spiel. Of course, they couldn't really be too mad at him, because when monitor across the flickered to life, including the one in Car 4-6-4-Diamond-6, instead of Sally Calypso, the Doctor spoke to them.

"_Sorry, no Sally Calypso, she was just a hologram. My name's the Doctor."_

Rose leaned into the car to see the screen.

"_And this is an order. Everyone on the motorway, drive up. Right now. I've opened the roof of the motorway. Come on. Throttle those engines! Drive up. All of you, the whole Undercity. Drive, up, drive up, drive up! Fast! You've got macra down below you and everyone down in the Fast Lane is depending on this. Drive up and get out of their way! Go up!"_

"What's he done?" Cheen asked, wide-eyed.

"I think…I think he's…given everyone a way out." Rose said.

"_Keep driving, everyone! You've got all of New New York waiting for you. All of you! Come on, that's it! Keep driving up! You've got a whole city up here, just waiting for you!"_ The Doctor grinned. _ "Car 4-6-4-Diamond-6, can you hear me?"_

Milo picked up the transmitter on the dash and spoke into it. "Loud and clear, Doctor."

"_Ah, hello! I think, perhaps, that ride to Brooklyn won't be needed anymore—you've got all of New New York up here. I'm sure you'll find some place to raise your family."_

Cheen and Milo looked at each other. She smiled and nodded. "Sounds good to us, Doctor."

"_Excellent! I'm sending you a flight path. Get whatever you have back out of the TARDIS—not too much, I hope—and get up to the Senate as quickly as you can."_

Rose held out her hand and Milo handed her the transmitter. "We're on our way!"

Milo returned the transmitter to its place as Rose ran to unlock the TARDIS. This time the TARDIS decided to be helpful and a flatbed cart was waiting by their stuff. She didn't even bother explaining where it'd come from. It took less than five minutes to get everything back into the car, Rose locked the TARDIS, and they were off, heading for the motorway where the Doctor had apparently given them a path to the surface.

"Alright, here we are: the entrance to the motorway." Milo said, pointing out the windshield. They were in a tunnel with a sign hanging down that read: _Motorway – Junction 89_. Another car was cruising just ahead of them and thought she couldn't see over it, she was sure there were more in front. The whole city has received his transmission; people would be going to see his miracle for themselves. They moved through the tunnel relatively quickly and within moments they were at the edge.

"Let's see just what your Doctor has done." Milo pushed down on the gas and car 4-6-4-Diamond-6 sailed out of the artificially lit tunnel and into the sunlight.

Cheen gasped and Milo's said something the TARDIS didn't translate.

Around them were hundreds of cars, thousands of them, and the exhaust they'd produced for God only knows how long. Above them the gridlock that had once imprisoned them was wide open and the sky, the beautiful blue sky of New Earth, beckoned to them. Milo steered them upward, rocketing towards the sky with the other cars. The sunlight filled the car and all the occupants inhaled simultaneously as the felt the glorious sunlight touch them.

Cheen and Meelo stared at it, completely enraptured at the beauty they'd never seen before, while Martha and Rose grinned.

"It's daylight!" Cheen murmured, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Yeah," Rose sighed, "it is."

"Oh my God. That's the sky. It's the real sky!"

"It's beautiful," Martha breathed as if she'd never seen the golden light before. In a way, she hadn't. This was a completely new sun to her.

With tears rolling down his cheeks, Milo looked away from the sky long enough to lean over and kiss his wife.

Their journey to the Senate was full of laughter and tears. Martha was just as eagerly taking in the sights of New New York as Cheen and Milo. Rose had seen the city before so she stayed in the back of the car, perched on a box, and allowed the others to make the most of the limited viewing space. If Martha ever decided she wanted a proper look at the city they'd have to come back in about ten years. Give the people a chance to rebuild their government and establish contact with any survivors and other the nearby planets.

_And figure out why no one came before now,_ she thought grimly. _A whole _universe _of people and no one thought to investigate New Earth going silent?_ There was something else going on, something worse, and as bright as things looked now, they weren't completely out of it yet.

The Senate of New New York was the largest, most impressive building in the city. Milo whistled appreciatively at the sight. They found a docking bay near the Senate chamber and landed. Milo and Cheen said goodbye then, wanting to get out there and find a place before all the good ones were taken. They exchanged hugs, left with a thank you message for the Doctor and promises that if they ever were on the planet again they'd look them up. Rose and Martha watched 4-6-4-diamond-6 fly off then they headed inside the Senate.

Twenty-four years without care or maintenance had left the building in disrepair. Paint was faded and peeling, the walls were chipped and dull, a thick layer of dust covered almost everything, most the lights were broken, and there more than a few holes in the ceilings and floors. They maneuvered through the hallways carefully, following the signs to the chamber.

"What's it like?" Martha asked.

"I've never been inside before," Rose said, pushing through the curtains that lead into the chamber. "Last time we were here we were kind of busy and—"

"What is it? Rose, what's—oh."

On the dais in front of them surrounded by old wires and broken technology was a single mummified humanoid. Martha stared. Rose tore her gaze away from it and looked around the room. In the stands above the dais were dozens of mummies and skeletons, some of them human some of them not. Her breath was shaky as she exhaled and she knew, without a doubt, that this was how the rest of the Overcity looked. Probably the entire planet. Millions of people dead, their bodies doomed to rot where they fell with no one left to bury them.

"Martha, Rose," the Doctor called softly from nearby.

"Doctor!" Martha cried happily, sprinting towards his voice. "What happened out there?" She stopped abruptly and her smile faded, replaced by a look of shock and horror.

Rose crossed the room quickly to see what was wrong. The Doctor and Novice Hame were kneeling next to a large head with tendrils where there should be hair. She'd only ever seen him twice—once on Platform One and once when Cassandra possessed her—but she'd know him anywhere. She gasped, rushing past Martha.

She stepped over a bundle of thick black wires and knelt down next to the Doctor.

"What's that?" Martha asked.

"It's the Face of Boe," the Doctor explained. Martha swallowed and slowly walked towards them. "It's alright, come and say hello. He's the one that opened the Undercity, not me."

"My Lord gave his life to save the city. And now he's dying."

Rose stared down at the Face of Boe. The ancient alien's eyes were on her as well as he took slow, laborious breaths. This was the first time she'd ever been able to get close and really just look at him without being possessed. He was familiar, she realized with a pang. She couldn't explain it but something about him was achingly familiar. It made her want to hug him and ease his departure from this life.

"No, don't say that," the Doctor chided softly. "Not old Boe. Plenty of life left."

_It's good to breathe the air once more_. the Face of Bo told them quietly.

"Who is he?" Martha asked quietly, kneeling between Rose and Hame.

"I don't even know," the Doctor admitted. "Legend says the Face of Boe has lived for billions of years." He looked down at Boe with a small smile. "Isn't that right? And you're not about to give up now."

_Everything has its time. You know that, old friend, better than most._ Boe said.

"The legend says more," Hame murmured.

"Don't," the Doctor said sharply. "There's no need for that."

"It says that the Face of Boe will speak his final secret to a traveller."

"Yeah, but not yet," the Doctor insisted. "Who needs secret, eh?"

_I have seen so much…perhaps too much. I am the last of my kind—as you are the last of yours, Doctor. _

"That's why we have to survive, both of us."

Rose put her hand on the Doctor's shoulder, squeezing it comfortingly. This did not escape the Face of Boe's notice.

_Rose Tyler…I have lived for eons …met countless people…so many faces known and forgotten…but yours has never faded. You were there…at my beginning…I am glad…you are here now._

Rose didn't know what he meant—he was familiar, but she was sure she hadn't been there when he was born, not yet at least—but she reached out and placed her hand on his chin. Her fingers tingled and she swore she could hear the singing in the back of her mind. A tear escaped her eye, trickling down her cheek. "Who are you?"

_You know the answer to that._ Boe took a deep, shuddering breath, and closed his eyes.

"Don't go," the Doctor pleaded softly.

Boe opened his eyes once more and they stared at the Doctor. _I must. But know this, Time Lord,_ "You are not alone."

For a single moment the tingling in her fingers increased and she felt the power of Time itself race through them both and the song echoed through her mind. She _knew_ who he was and she couldn't believe it. She gasped, his name catching in her throat. He took one last raggedy breath and exhaled slowly, his eyes closing as he slipped into sleep eternal. The song faded, taking the knowledge with it. Lips trembling, tears trickling down her cheeks, Rose withdrew her hand from his face.

It was like waking from a vivid dream and being unable to remember the details. She'd known who he was, but try as she might, she couldn't recall the name that had been about to fall from her lips, nor the face that belonged with it, only that she had loved him.

Rose looked up at the Doctor. He was confused and angry and stricken and more than a little bit lost. She placed her hand on his arm and without looking away from Boe, he shifted his arm so her hand slipped into his. He pulled her up and they backed away from Boe and Hame, who was sobbing bitterly. Rose curled into the Doctor's side, unable to shake the profound grief she felt at Boe's passing. The Doctor put his arm around her and when Martha leaned against his other side he slipped that arm over her shoulders.

After a time, Hame's sobs slowed and her shaking shoulders stilled. She wiped her eyes and stood up. When she spoke, her voice was hard. "Thank you, Doctor."

The Doctor nodded.

"I will take care of him and the city as I have done these last twenty-four years," she said as she walked towards them.

"You have a choice, Hame," he told her softly.

Hame stopped in front of them. "Be that as it may, Doctor, if I do not, no one else will. Now all of you grab on." She held out her arm and they each took hold. Rose looked at the Face of Boe one last time before Hame pressed the button on her teleport.

It felt like every part of her being compressed into a single atom and pulled in every direction. She might have screamed if she'd still had a voice to scream with. It ended as abruptly it had began and she existed again. Rose groaned and lifted her head. Somehow they'd ended up on the ground in what looked like the Undercity. Yeah, definitely the Undercity—the Overcity was not this filthy.

Martha moaned. "Oh, what was that?"

"Teleport," the Doctor growled, pushing himself up. "Not the best sort, either, but I guess with the world dead around you, you don't exactly have the luxury of being picky."

Rose picked herself up on the ground and rubbed her recently healed arm. She must've fallen on it funny when they landed. The Doctor would probably need to give it another once-over with the sonic. Martha climbed to her feet and wobbled unsteadily for a moment then exhaled loudly.

"Well, remind me to never teleport again. Oh, where are we?"

"Exactly where I first found you." Hame did not bother to rise. "I must return. Safe journey," she bid them. "I do not know if we shall meet again, but may Santori be with you." She pressed the button on her wrist again and vanished.

The Doctor stared somberly at the spot where she'd vanished for a long moment then he was back to normal. "Right! Well, that's New New York sorted. Back to the TARDIS!" He strode towards the door to the tunnels that would lead them back to the pharmacy stalls. Rose and Martha exchanged looks and Rose saw the questions building up behind her friend's gaze. She shook her head pointedly before following the Doctor out.

It seemed the three pharmacists had taken the Doctor's advice and moved on. Considering that those Moods were the cause of their twenty-four year imprisonment, he doubted that any of the pharmacists would be in business much longer. Not unless they went back to selling actual medicines, anyway. He probably should've told Hame to make sure of that. Oh well, she was smart. She'd figure it out.

"They're gone. Must've taken you seriously." Rose remarked.

"Yep," the Doctor grinned, peering into one of the abandoned stalls.

"Happy?" Martha asked.

"Happy happy."

She laughed quietly.

"New New York can start again. And they got Novice Hame. Just what every city needs—cats in charge."

"So you like cats again, Doctor?" Rose asked.

"No. We-e-e-ell—maybe a little. Come on, time we were off." He jerked his head, stuffing his hands into his pockets, and strolled towards the TARDIS. Rose slipped her arm around his.

"What did he mean, the Face of Boe?" Martha blurted out suddenly.

They stopped and turned around. Martha stood in the middle of the alleyway looking melancholy and just a bit confused. "'You are not alone.'"

The Doctor shook his head lightly. "I don't know."

"Shakespeare said you weren't alone," she reminded him, walking towards them. "You've got Rose. And me. Is that what he meant?"

He shook his head again. "No, I don't think so. Boe and Shakespeare are…well, I think they have different definitions of the word 'alone.'"

Martha looked a bit annoyed. "Then what?"

"Doesn't matter. Back to the TARDIS, off we go." He turned again and started off again, looking straight ahead. Rose squeezed his arm comfortingly, knowing it would be better to wait until later to press the issue, and rested her head on his shoulder.

Behind them they heard a metallic clink and they turned around yet again. Martha sat stiffly on a chair with her arms folded across her chest. She frowned at them with her eyebrows lifted and her lips pursed.

"All right, you staying?" the Doctor asked.

"'Till you talk to me properly, yes. He said 'last of your kind.' What does that mean?"

Rose squeezed his arm again, looking up at his face. "Doctor," she murmured.

She saw pain flash in his eyes for a second before it was gone, hidden behind a mask of flippancy. "It doesn't really matter."

"You don't talk! Rose is the only one who's bothered to tell me anything about—"

Her voice died in her throat as the sound of a chorus reached their ears. Another ancient hymn from a faith so old she doubted anyone alive knew the true stories anymore. It sounded father away this time, from up in the Overcity as people fled from the catacombs in which they'd been imprisoned for the last two and a half decades and stepped into the sunlight.

_Fast falls the eventide_

Rose felt her breath catch in her throat. "They're singing again."

_The darkness deepens._

_Lord, with me abide_

_When other helpers fail_

"Earlier, when you asked me about my planet," the Doctor began softly.

_And comforts flee_

_Help of the helpless_

"I lied, 'cause I liked it. I could pretend with you, Martha. Just for a bit, I could imagine they were still alive, underneath a burnt orange sky." he swallowed. "I'm not just a Time Lord. I'm the last of the Time Lords. The Face of Boe was wrong. There's no one else."

_Swift to its close ebbs _

Martha looked between him and Rose, shocked and more than a little appalled. "What happened?"

_Out life's little day_

The Doctor glanced down at Rose, looking for all the world like a lost child, and took a deep breath. "There was a war. We lost."

_Earth's joys grow dim_

_It's glories pass away_

Martha waited for him to say more and when it became clear that was all he was going to say she frowned. "That's it? Would've had to have been a bloody great war to wipe out an entire species."

"Not just my species," the Doctor corrected. "Our enemy, a race called the Daleks, died too. Or so I thought," he added darkly and exhaled through his teeth. "But not just us, oh no. Dozens of other species got caught up in the war and were decimated, their planets destroyed. And even some of those who didn't fight in the war were affected. Their timelines broken, their planets and galaxies mutilated…some wiped from time itself. The universe used to be more populated than it is now."

He closed his eyes and rested his head on top of Rose's, wrapping his arms around her. Rose slid her arms around his waist and gently rubbed her hand up and down his back.

_The darkness deepens_

_Lord, with me abide._

Martha regretted even bringing it up now. "I'm sorry," she said.

The Doctor straightened up, leaving one arm around Rose, and smiled at her sadly. "Come on, back to the TARDIS. We can have a cuppa…and I'll tell you both about Gallifrey."

Martha nodded meekly. "Okay, sounds good." She stood up from the chair and followed them back to the TARDIS.

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**I'm close to 200 reviews! 13 chapters and 200 reviews, that'd be a new record for me, I think. So...donate a review? It's for a good cause! :D**

**I'm going to go get food now. **


	14. Bonding

**And what really sucks is that I just finished a chapter that would have been good for Valentine's Day, except it's ten chapters chapters ahead of this one. Oh well. **

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The next morning, or at least what counted as morning on the TARDIS, the Doctor breezed into the kitchen with a smile on his face. Martha and Rose were seated at the table eating breakfast. Oatmeal by the smell of it and there was a third bowl waiting for him with a cup of tea. They looked up when he pushed the door open.

"Mornin', Doctor!" Rose beamed.

"You're late," Martha informed him, taking a sip of her tea. "We've been waiting ages for you."

"It doesn't look like you waited." He looked pointedly at her half-empty bowl of oatmeal. She shrugged. He sat down in his usual chair next to Rose and tucked in. She'd added banana slices, he realized with a grin.

"So, you were saying?" Martha prompted and Rose re-launched into the story she'd been telling before he walked in.

While he ate, the Doctor took a moment to study his two companions next to each other. They were so different, the two of them. Their clothing styles, their backgrounds, their education. Where Rose seemed loose, Martha was a bit uptight. Her family, her job, and her schooling tethered Martha to her time and planet while Rose had nothing holding her anywhere outside this box. Nothing except the friends she'd grown distant from.

The Doctor took another bite of oatmeal and stared down at the bowl. That was his fault. He'd taken her from her friends and family. Not for the first time he wondered would happen to her if he was killed or they were separated. She could activate one of the Emergency Protocols to get her home but what would she do after that? Where would she go?

"Doctor, is there any particular reason why you're glaring at your breakfast like it just committed murder?" Martha asked.

He looked up. "What? Oh, no, no, just thinking."

"Penny for your thoughts?"

The Doctor smiled. "No, I don't think so. Don't like money, me. Some of the worst feuds in history were started because of money."

Martha considered this then frowned. "Well, then, how do you pay for all this food?"

Rose made a noise and covered her mouth with her hand. "He sonics a money mover," she said with her mouth full of oatmeal.

Martha blinked. "You what?"

The Doctor whipped the screwdriver out of his pocket and wiggled it back and forth. "Setting 228-A for money machines. Setting 228-B for credits machines."

"But that's—that's stealing!" Martha protested.

He arched his eyebrow at her. "It's not like I take it from anyone's bank account."

"But you're still taking money that's not yours."

"She's as bad as you were," the Doctor griped to Rose.

She shrugged. "And we're both right."

"I don't hear you complaining whenever I take you out shopping."

She shrugged again. Martha wasn't impressed.

"Oh come on," he protested. "It's not like I do it every day. Plus I've got a nice account sitting there from UNIT. I used to work with them a while back. If it helps, imagine the money's coming from there."

"Why don't you just actually withdraw from that account?"

The Doctor wrinkled his nose. "Way too much time and effort. I haven't touched it for…oh…" he exhaled. "Four hundred years? Give or take. I don't even remember where I put the card—probably lost somewhere in that scarf. I don't remember the pin number, either. It's so much easier to just switch to 228 and go. Besides, I'd bet my thumb that the minute I access it UNIT will know and they'll probably come to hunt me down."

"Why would they do that?" Rose asked in surprise. Whenever he'd spoken of UNIT he'd always made it seem like they were on good terms.

"If you were a military organization dedicated to fighting hostile extraterrestrial forces, and planet Earth has now been openly invaded twice, wouldn't you want to have me around again?"

"Good point."

Martha dropped her spoon into the bowl with a clatter and leaned back in her chair. "Alright Bill and Ted, where are we off to today?"

The Doctor's eyes widened and he chortled, nearly choking on his oatmeal, while Rose stared uncomprehendingly. "Who?"

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "It's an American film from the '80s. Basically it's about two teenagers with a time travelling payphone who go gallivanting around the past."

Rose snorted. "Time travelling payphone? And I s'pose you had nothing' to do with that, Doctor?"

"Well…one of the writers may have heard stories of me an' the Old Girl, I suppose. But other than that, no, I had absolutely nothing to do with that film. In fact, have issues with it," he told them seriously. "Whoever wrote that had absolutely no grasp of the laws of space and time or temporal physics and mechanics. Plus, who in their right mind would just—just _give_ a time travelling machine to a pair of idiots and then swan off?!"

"Doctor—" Martha began.

"I was well over a hundred before I was even allowed to _touch_ a TT capsule, never mind use one, and even then I had to take multiple tests to prove I knew the controls, and when I actually flew one there were no less than three of my instructors breathing down my neck to make sure I didn't blow up the universe or land us smack in the middle of a Sontaran battlefield!"

"Doctor—"

"Plus, the idea that a garage band would turn society into a utopia is completely—"

"DOCTOR!"

"What?" He frowned then realized the looks he was getting from his two companions and looked down petulantly.

Martha huffed irritably. "God, if I'd known Bill and Ted would make you go off I'd have never brought it up. Remind me never to bring up _The Terminator_ with him," she told Rose.

"Uh, you just brought it up." Rose pointed out with a grimace. They both glanced at the Doctor, half-expecting him to start rambling about the temporal flaws in that movie, but he simply shrugged.

"I like that movie," he said once he'd swallowed his oatmeal. "Second wasn't half bad, either. Third was—" he made a face. "Well, it was alright. Least it still had Arnold in it. But the fourth was just complete rubbish."

"There's a fourth? When?" Martha asked.

"2009."

"Do you have it in the library?"

"No."

"Then can we go and see it?"

"I just _told_ you it's complete rubbish!"

"So? I still want to see it."

"No."

"But—"

"No!"

"That's not fair. Why can't we go somewhere I wanna go this time?"

"My ship."

"And here I was worried you two wouldn't get along." Rose said loudly, picking up her bowl and heading for the sink. They grinned sheepishly at each other. She came back to collect Martha's bowl and mug and gestured at the Doctor's half-eaten breakfast pointedly before returning to the sink.

After taking another few bites, the Doctor said, "We've got something much more important to do today than watch great series being butchered. We're already there, actually."

"I thought I felt us land," Rose commented. "Where are we? No wait, correction: where do you hope we are?"

He paused with the spoon halfway to his mouth, shooting her a look before he brought it all the way up. "You'll see."

Ten minutes later the three of them were in the console room, waiting for the Doctor to double-check their coordinates. Martha leaned back against the railing and Rose stood on the opposite side of the console from the Doctor, drumming her fingers along the edge. The Doctor was staring intently at the screen.

"I think this might be the first time I've ever seen you concerned about the possibility of your driving being off." Rose remarked.

"Yeah, well, last time I didn't check at all, and I don't want to make a habit of getting slapped by my companion's mothers."

Rose tilted her head as what he was saying registered. "We're in London 2008?"

"Yep," he replied, straightening. "By the looks of it."

"Home?" Martha asked curiously and pushed off the railing. "Why?"

"Well, because Martha Jones, your trial run has officially expired." He shoved his hands in his pockets. "Same thing I did with her: once to the past, once to the future, then back home. Now you've got to make up your mind: are you staying here or are you coming with us? Outside those doors is twelve hours after you left. If you decide to stay home it'll be like you never left. If you decide to stay on board you'll become a fulltime passenger."

Martha looked appalled at having such a momentous decision suddenly thrust upon her. Rose shot the Doctor a look that he didn't catch.

"Do I…have to decide now?"

"No, of course not!" the Doctor said. "You can have all day if you want and you don't have to spend it in here. Go on out there—go on. I promise we won't leave."

Martha pressed her lips together for a moment. "Come with me?"

The Doctor nodded to the door. "Lead the way."

She walked down the ramp and carefully eased the door open, looking around to see where they'd landed and half expecting to see the alleyway they'd left from. She blinked. "I'm home," she said.

"Good job," Rose told the Doctor.

"No, I mean, I'm literally _home_." Martha pushed the door open wider and stepped outside. "How did you know where my flat is?"

Rose emerged from the TARDIS and looked around the room with interest. It was a lot Martha's room on the TARDIS, down to the pattern on the bedspread. It was a bit untidy, but Rose's room hadn't ever been any better. There were plenty of medical textbooks on her shelf, plus a phone, laptop, and a telly.

The Doctor emerged from the TARDIS. "Pretty simple, really. I just traced your home phone number. It was in your mobile."

"You went through my stuff?" she asked indignantly.

Rose elbowed him sharply in the ribs and he winced. "Rude!" she chided. "I've told you before, Doctor, you can't just go rummaging through our stuff whenever you please."

"Well how else was I supposed to know where she lives?"

"I dunno, maybe you could've asked like a normal person!" Martha said exasperatedly.

"Since when have I ever been normal?"

They glared at him.

"Alright, alright, I'm sorry," he apologized, looking around the room. "But, hey, I got you home, didn't I? Yep, look at the clock. Twelve hours almost exactly!"

"So…all that stuff we've done—Shakespeare, Haven, and New New York?"

"Yep, all in one night—relatively speaking. Everything should be just is it was—books, CDs—" he plucked a pair of knickers off the drying wrack, "—laundry."

Martha's eyes widened and she snatched them away from him. This time Rose whacked his arm.

"Ow! Abuse, this is!"

"Hands. In. Your pockets." Rose ordered.

He opened his mouth to protest but she silenced him with a glare. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his suit and rocked back on his heels, sulking. Rose nodded, satisfied, and folded her arms.

"I don't know how you put up with him." Martha told her.

"Me neither."

Martha's phone rang suddenly, startling all of them, and the answering machine picked up. _"Hi! I'm out! Leave a message!"_

"I'm sorry," Martha apologized like she was expecting the worst.

_ "Martha, are you there? Pick it up, will you?"_ An unfamiliar voice came through the speaker.

"It's Mum," she said. "I'll wait."

_ "Alright, then pretend that you're out if you like." _her mother said irritably. They glanced at each other and sniggered. _ "I was only calling to say that you're sister's on TV. On the news of all things. Just thought you might be interested."_

Martha frowned and picked up the remote, pointing it at the TV. The news came on first thing. An older man that she didn't recognize stood at a podium, addressing the press. Tish stood behind him, prim and proper, looking for all the world like a dutiful little employee listening intently to her boss, when in actuality she was probably thinking about last night or her party tonight.

_ "The details are top secret—" _the man was saying.

"How could Tish end up on the news?" she wondered.

_ "Tonight I will demonstrate a device—"_

"She's got a new job," Martha explained. "PR for some research lab."

_ "—with a push of a single button, I will change what it means to be human."_ Tish's boss declared and then the press started shouting questions. Martha shrugged and shut the screen off.

"Alright, so, um, say I do decide to stay." Martha turned to the two of them. The Doctor tore his gaze away from the television and raised his eyebrows. "I've got med school to finish and my exams. Plus once everything settles down with the hospital they'll expect me back in for residency. I can't just skip all that."

"Well…" the Doctor tugged at his earlobe. "I suppose I could leave you here now and we'll jump ahead, oh say, six months? Should be enough time for you to get all wrapped up."

"I suppose so," Martha said slowly, though she didn't much like the idea of staying here for six months. Traveling with them was addicting and she was already hooked. "What about you two in the meantime?"

"Oh, we'll just skip right over."

"That's hardly fair."

Rose cleared her throat loudly and the two of them looked at her. She arched her eyebrows, crossing her arms over her chest, and nodded to the TV. "Was I the only one listenin' to that?"

"No, I heard him," the Doctor said. "He said that—" His voice died in his throat and his eyes widened as the man's words finally registered. "Did he just say he was going to change what it means to be human?"

Rose smirked and nodded.

"H-how—what—_what_?" the Doctor's stuttered, his mouth opening and closing like a fish's. "Turn it back on, Martha!"

Martha jumped at the urgency his voice, snatching the remote from the table and pointing at the television. The Doctor crouched down in front of the TV. The screen flickered to life and they were greeted with a commercial about a new combo deal at McDonalds. He smacked the side of it in frustration, muttering about stupid ads and fast food. They sat through three minutes of boring commercials then the news was back on. They waited for ten minutes but there was no mention of that professor or his supposed revolution to humanity until the very end. There was to be some sort of gala event tonight at Lazarus Laboratories where Professor Lazarus would be demonstrating his mysterious project.

"We're going," the Doctor said.

"Tish's got me an invite!" Martha remembered suddenly. "I don't know how you two could get in, though…"

"Psychic paper."

"Oh, right."

"So…does this mean we're going to a fancy party?" Rose asked.

"Yes, yes it does." The Doctor said, his eyes twinkling.

"Finally. I've been waiting for a chance to wear that dress."

"What dress?"

Rose smiled slowly. "You'll just have to wait and see." To Martha, she added, "Do you have any dresses or do you need one from the wardrobe?"

"I have my own." Martha said, glancing towards her closet.

"Well then go on and get pretty," the Doctor ordered. "Meet us in the console room as soon as you can."

"But the party's not for hours!"

"Time machine."

"Oh, right. But, um, can you…move the TARDIS out of here? I can't really get ready with a giant police box taking up half the space."

"Grab your stuff and just come on inside." Rose said. "If either of you need me, I'll be in the wardrobe or my room. And Doctor?"

"Hmm?"

"No peeking." With another smirk in his direction, Rose turned on her heel and flounced into the TARDIS, the door swinging shut behind her. The Doctor watched her go.

Martha chuckled quietly and he turned to her curiously. "What?"

"You fancy her."

His eyes widened and he scratched at the back of his neck. "Well, I…she—she's—I mean—she's my friend."

"Oh don't give me that." She shook her head and walked over to her closet. "I've been around you for—what, three days? Don't think I haven't noticed."

"Noticed what?"

She pulled open her closet and rummaged through for one of those nice dresses she knew she had somewhere.

"Well, Doctor, let's see. You've pretended to be a married couple twice and I didn't doubt it for a second when we first met. In fact, I was surprised when she told me you weren't. You kissed her at the hospital."

"That was a genetic transfer," he mumbled.

"She already had traces of alien life all over her." Martha countered. She pushed aside a pair of pants and exclaimed triumphantly when she found what she was looking for. She pulled the dress out of her closet and held it up for quick examination, then grabbed the matching heels and closed the doors.

"And let's not forget Shakespeare. He told you both you loved each other and neither of you corrected him." she went on as she hunted for her makeup bag. "And when Milo and Cheen tried to take her, you were ready to kill them. I saw you, Doctor. You wouldn't have just let them go if I hadn't stopped you. And you wouldn't have reacted like that if it'd been me."

She spun around, with her arms full of her dress, the shoes, her brush, a headband, and her makeup bag. "Plus just the way you two act around each other! And the way you look at her. You're completely smitten."

He didn't say anything, simply pushing the door open for her.

"Right, then, if that's how you're going to be." She lifted her chin and she stomped past him into the TARDIS. The ship seemed to be in agreement with what she had in mind because she found Rose's room after only about a minute of walking. She kicked lightly at the door with her foot.

"Rose? You in here?" she called.

"Yeah, c'mon in!"

"I can't, my hands are full."

A minute later, Rose opened the door. She had her hair back in a loose ponytail and she seemed to be in the process of applying makeup. "What's wrong? Has she hidden your door again?"

"No, um, do you mind if I get ready in here? I wanna talk to you about something."

Rose shrugged, stepping aside. "Just dump your stuff on the bed.

Martha walked past her with a smile, stepping over the discarded clothes on Rose's floor. She dropped her load to the bed unceremoniously and grabbed her brush and makeup bag, heading to the bathroom after Rose. The blonde woman was already back to work, applying green eye shadow to her eyelids. She spotted a long, emerald green number hanging from a hook on the wall and inhaled. Rose glanced at her then followed her gaze.

"That's not too much, is it?" she asked.

Martha shook her head. "Oh, no, not at all. It's just…really pretty."

Rose smiled and shook her head. "I found it in the wardrobe a while back."

"If you're going to be wearing that I might as well not bother dressing up." She was only half kidding.

"You could go poke around the wardrobe," Rose offered. "I'm sure she's got something in there that'd you'd love."

"Yeah but then I'd have to explain to Tish where I got it." She shook her head. "I'll tell you what, though, the Doctor's not going to be able to take his eyes off you."

Rose went back to applying her eye shadow and Martha saw her smirk reflected in the mirror. Martha grinned and shook her head, setting the bag and brush down on the counter. The Time Lord would have no idea what hit him. She rummaged through her makeup bag and tried to decide what she'd need. She already had a bit of mascara and lipstick. She'd probably give herself another layer of mascara, plus some eye shadow, and blush, too.

"So, what did you want to talk about?" Rose asked.

"You and the Doctor. What is with you two?"

"What do you mean?"

"Half the time you two act like you're just best mates and half the time you look at each other like you want to shag each other's brains out."

Rose inhaled through her nose, pressing her lips together, and when she exhaled she seemed to be smothering a laugh.

"Really, though, it's pretty obvious." Martha told her, pulling out her eye shadow. She dabbed her brush into the gray powder. "You fancy him, he fancies you. So what's the problem?"

Rose set her brush down and sighed. "Everything and nothing, I guess. I…I love him, but…I dunno. Sometimes it seems like he doesn't even really care about me at all."

"Rubbish," Martha said immediately. "He's smitten."

Rose laughed once.

"No, he is! Completely! If you asked, I'm sure he'd give you the sun and moon."

"He _did_ burn up a sun for me not too long ago," she admitted.

"He what?" Martha blinked in surprise.

"So I could say goodbye to Mum in the other universe."

"Whoa," she muttered. "How many women find a man willing to do that? Though, I'm surprised he hasn't even kissed you yet."

"Oh, he has." Rose said lightly as she applied a light blush to her cheeks. "But then he'd always go right back to being himself and pretending nothing happened."

"And have you tried to kiss him?"

"Yeah, the very first time was my doing. He didn't seem to mind at all."

"Then what's the holdup?" Martha asked with a laugh, lifting the mascara brush to her lashes. "I could clear off for a day if you want me to. I can pick out like ten films and hide in the library while you two have a talk. I'm pretty sure the TARDIS would help seeing as she likes you both so much."

She set the blush down and smiled at Martha in the mirror. "Thanks, but the Doctor doesn't really talk about things. He never has in the time I've known him. I have to really hammer at him if I want him to open up about anything. It's just easier for him to run away. Always running…"

"So you think he'd rather run from his feelings from you than face them? Oh yeah, Time Lord or not, he's still a man. You're probably going to have to take some initiative here, Rose. Though," Martha eyed the dress, "that's a good way to start."

Rose smirked again and lifted her eyes towards the ceiling. "An' do you have anythin' to say about all of this?"

The background hum increased in pitch and the lights above the mirror flickered once.

"Well, that's that, then." Rose sighed dramatically. "I s'pose I must now." She turned around and plucked the dress off the hanger. "I'm going to get dressed. Hurry up, if you can. He's probably already climbin' the walls."

Martha's laughter followed her out of the bathroom. She laid the dress down on her bed then went to her dresser, rummaging around the drawers for a strapless bra. _I really need to straighten up in here,_ she grumbled to herself as she pushed the contents around. She found one near the back that would do and shoved the drawer closed.

By the time Martha emerged a few minutes later she was already dressed and smoothing down the skirt in front of her mirror. Sometimes she was immensely glad that the TARDIS approved of her. She'd stumbled on this dress a few weeks ago, just before Canary Wharf, while roaming the part of the wardrobe for something to wear for their little holiday in 43rd century on a leisure planet. It'd just been there, gleaming invitingly under the lights and she'd known before even trying it on that it would fit perfectly. She'd been waiting for an opportunity to wear it since.

The dress itself was made out of a material she didn't recognize, something between silk and velvet—which either meant it was a fabric that hadn't been invented yet in her time or it was alien. The bodice of the dress was ruched and held up by two thin straps over her shoulders while the long, sweeping skirt flowed from the waist, with a slit up to her thigh on the left side. It would look great with a nice pair of heels but considering that they would be in London and investigating such a radical claim, heels probably wouldn't be a good idea. Rose Tyler was good at legging it but doing so in heels wasn't something she enjoyed. So she'd chosen a pair of silvery gold flats instead.

"Alright, turn around and let's see." Martha instructed. Rose smiled and spun around, the skirt billowing as she did. Martha pursed her lips thoughtfully, tapping her chin. "Hmmm."

"Well?"

"Looks good. Really, there's no reason I should even bother with a dress now. No one will be looking at me anyway."

"Oh, shut up," Rose shook her head, smiling. "I'm not _that_ beautiful."

"I think the Doctor will beg to differ." Martha plucked her dress off the bed for examination. It decidedly simpler than Rose's: dark burgundy, knee-length and sleeveless. "But, then again, I've got no one to dress for."

"You will one day." Rose said matter-of-factly. "Just you wait. Soon you'll have all sorts of men making eyes at you, kissin' your hand, and tellin' you that you're the most pretty woman in the room an' asking for a dance."

"Does that happen often?"

"Often enough," she admitted, her mouth twisting. "Drove the Doctor absolutely mad sometimes."

While Martha was getting her dress on, Rose went back into the bathroom to decide to do what about her hair. Leaving it down wouldn't do with the dress even though that was the easiest option with it being so short. She grabbed the brush and started pulling her hair back. She decided on a chignon at the nape of her neck, with part of her bangs down framing either side of her face. Martha came in and started brushing out her own hair.

"Whatchya think?" Rose asked. "Should I curl these or leave 'em straight?"

Martha looked at her considering. "Curl 'em, definitely."

Rose nodded in agreement and pulled the curling iron she'd gotten during a jaunt to the 80th century out of the cabinet. Then, of course, she had to explain to Martha what it was because by that time the curling irons didn't completely look like 21st century ones. The biggest difference was that hers had internal self-replenishing power sources and could be ready to use in thirty seconds. Jack had recommended the 80th century to her for hair styling tools. _How_ he'd known that the 80th century had the ultimate breakthrough in hair care was a mystery, one she wasn't entirely sure she wanted solved.

"Can we stop there?" Martha asked. "I'd like to get my own."

"Ask the Doctor later on. If he complains, I'll back you up, and the TARDIS will probably back me up. Then he'll grumble about all us girls gangin' up on him and drive us to the 80th century because he knows if he doesn't the TARDIS will probably change course and take us there instead of somewhere he really wants to go."

The background hum lightened and Rose felt the ship's amusement in her mind. And while Martha may not have felt anything in her own mind, she'd definitely noticed the change in pitch and guessed the TARDIS was agreeing. They both laughed loudly, thoroughly enjoying themselves.

"Oh, God, would you look at me?" Martha said as she pushed her headband on. "I've never done this. Laughed and joked and offered beauty advice with someone my age."

"Never? Didn't you have any friends?"

"Well, yeah, but ever since I decided I wanted to be a doctor, I knew I had to make top grades. I mostly focused on my studies during secondary school. Almost no social life—Tish still gets on my arse about that—and any time I ever went out I usually got ready alone. This is actually kind of nice." She smiled. "What about you?"

"All the time," Rose admitted, holding her hand above the curling iron to check if it was hot enough, then wrapped some of the strands around it. "Me an' my mate Shareen, we used to always go out. We'd help each other with hair and makeup, talk about boys, look at boys, go around the shops, skip school—stuff like that."

"So while I was busy being a nerd…"

Rose smiled dryly. "Yeah. But I come from an Estate. No one ever really expected anything of me and the teachers at school were only there for the pay. Unless you were one of those lucky few with an IQ over 120 then they didn't care whether or not you passed. I hated every minute of it."

Martha couldn't agree with her on that one—she'd always loved school herself, but she'd also come from a completely different background. She fixed her headband so it was on straight, smoothing down her hair in the back. "Done!" she proclaimed with a smile, slapping the counter with her hands.

Rose slid the iron out of her hair and turned her head from side to side. She nodded, satisfied, and switched off the iron. She set it on the counter to cool and then followed Martha out of the bathroom. They slid their shoes on and Martha gathered her stuff in her arms. They stopped by her room so she could drop it all off then made their way to the console room.

The Doctor was already there, of course, wearing in his dress suit and black tie. He started to speak when he heard their footsteps on the grating but he didn't look up from the console. "It's a good thing we have a time machine or, I swear, we'd be late to everything! Why does it always take you over an hour to—"

He glanced up and the sight of Rose Tyler sauntering into the console room in that green dress caused his voice to die in his throat. The two women exchanged knowing, almost conspiratorial looks, and ambled further into the room.

"Well, what do you think?" Rose asked lightly.

The Doctor cleared his throat but his voice was a bit higher than normal when he finally said, "I…well…"

Rose cocked her head to the side and lifted her eyebrows. "Yes?"

"You look beautiful. B-both of you," he added quickly and turned back to the console.

Rose and Martha glanced at each other again, this time stifling laughter.

"Shall we go then?" Rose asked, cocking her head to the side.

The Doctor grinned, his eyes lingering on her. "Hold on, ladies!" He grabbed the lever that would send them off and grinned. "Here we go! Allons-y!"

* * *

**Hey, would you look at that. We're all caught up to Teaspoon. (For now. XD)**

**Well, since I'm not going to be getting any Valentines from anyone today, it would only be polite if you'd all leave me some reviews. 'Cos y'know. **


	15. Gala

**Ugh so guess who's sick as a dog? This girl. This is my third cold in four months so they've put me on antibiotics so this go round doesn't end up as bad as the last one. **

**Please read the bottom AN because there's a something you all need to see! :D **

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It was nearing eight o'clock as the three time travelers strolled down the street towards Lazarus Laboratories. Martha's heels clicked against the concrete and Rose's skirt billowed in the breeze. The Doctor repeatedly fussed with the cuffs on his shirt and his tie until Rose stepped in front of him and they stopped so she could fix it.

"Oh, whenever I wear this, something bad always happens." he grumbled, lifting his chin so she could work.

Martha shook her head. "It's not the outfit, that's just you."

"Thanks."

"But I think it suits you. In a James Bond kind of way."

"James Bond?" the Doctor asked scathingly. Rose finished straightening the tie and smoothed down the shoulders of his jacket. He smiled at her and they continued on their way, this time with Rose's arm looped through is. Being compared to James Bond must've actually seemed like a good thing because he added almost hopefully, "Really?"

Martha laughed.

"Well, you're certainly no Spock," Rose said.

"You're right. I'm a lot better than Spock."

The front of the building was a great stone edifice with columns, arched windows, and a great door in the middle with _LAZARUS LABORATORIES_ etched into the stone at the top. Two purple banners hung between the columns and a red carpet decorated the middle of the grand stone steps. A few members of the press waited behind a divider, snapping pictures of the guests as they strolled up the carpeted stairs. Behind the original stone building was a more modern looking structure with large glass windows instead of walls. From here they could make out dozens of computers and what looked like a small library, but nothing that really screamed of a research and development company.

The small group of press noticed them coming and when they got close enough they began snapping pictures and asking for names. Martha turned her head away automatically, Rose gave them a friendly smile, and the Doctor chose to ignore them in favor of a more important topic.

"If I'm James Bond," he began as they mounted the steps. "I'm gonna need a theme song."

"Oh, yeah." Rose nodded. "Definitely."

"Any ideas?"

They thought about it and then Martha started humming the original _Scooby Doo_ opening. Rose burst into laughter and the Doctor looked down at his newest companion indignantly.

"Oi!" he cried.

Martha smiled at him continued humming until they reached the podium where a man was checking for names on the invitation list. She took a deep breath and prepared a cheerful smile. When the man asked for her name she said, "Martha Jones. My sister is Leticia Jones, she said I had an invite."

The man scanned the list and nodded after a moment. "Yes, there you are. And you two?"

"We're with her," the Doctor answered cheerily, pulling the psychic paper from his pocket. "I'm Sir Doctor and this is Dame Rose." He flipped it open and held it up for the man to see. He peered at it for a second, glancing at the two of them, and bit the inside of his lip.

"You're only allowed one guest, luv," the man told Martha. "However, I'll make an exception just this once." He waved them past.

The little gala was in full swing on the third floor in a reception room with glass walls on two sides. The room was professional and aesthetically pleasing if one could ignore the tables of equipment and the hulking cylindrical capsule surrounded by four curved pillars sitting in the center of everything. The guests were milling around it, a pleasant hum of civilized conversation over the gentle music being played by a live string quartet. Serving staff with trays and smartly dressed photographers moved through the crowd, passing out hors d'oeuvres and snapping pictures of people and the great thing in the middle of the room.

The Doctor eyed it with trepidation and Rose guessed he probably knew what it was on sight alone. She, however, had no idea what she was looking at. It was just another bloody _thing_ that would probably cause them all sorts of grief because that's the way things worked in their life.

"This dress," the Doctor said in her ear, causing Rose to start in surprise. She turned and smiled at him. He fingered one of the straps. "Where did you find it?"

"The wardrobe. I was just browsing one day and there it was. I guess she knew I'd like it."

He smiled warmly at her. "You look beautiful, Rose."

"Considering I'm human, right?"

The Doctor shook his head and murmured, "Considering nothing."

He noticed something out of the corner of his eye and his attention was drawn to a server with a tray passing them. "Oh, look, they've got nibbles!" he chirped, reaching out to snatch a few off the tray. "I love nibbles!"

He handed one to Rose and popped another in his mouth without even bothering to check what it was. She rolled her eyes fondly.

"Hello!" a feminine voice said behind them and Rose turned.

"Tish!" Martha cried happily, hugging her sister. Tish took a step back and looked at Martha's ensemble.

"You look great. So, what do you think? Impressive, isn't it?"

She nodded. "Very."

Rose noticed the Doctor snag more nibbles from another passing tray and sighed. He blinked at her, completely oblivious, and she just shook her head fondly.

"And two nights out in a row for you—that's dangerously close to a social life."

"If I keep this up, I'll end up in all the gossip columns." Martha replied sarcastically.

"You might, actually. You should keep an eye out for photographers. And Mum, she's coming too—even dragging Leo along with her."

Martha's eyebrows shot upwards. "Leo, in black tie? That I _must_ see."

Tish seemed to notice Rose and the Doctor for the first time and glanced between them and her sister. Martha got the hint.

"This is, uh, the Doctor and his, um, colleague, Rose." She threw a quick glance at Rose, wondering if she should've gone with the routine husband/wife cover.

"Hey." Rose smiled at her.

"Hullo!" the Doctor chirped, mouth full of food, reaching out to shake her hand. Tish shook it and smiled pleasantly.

"Are they with you?"

"Yeah."

"But they're not on the list. How'd they get in?"

"They're my guests. I know I'm only supposed to have one but they both really wanted to come."

"So," the Doctor interjected, coming to her rescue. "This Lazarus bloke, he's your boss?"

"Professor Lazarus, yes. I'm part of his executive staff."

Martha rolled her eyes at her sister. "She's in the PR department."

"I'm head of the PR department, actually." Tish corrected haughtily.

"You're joking."

"I put this whole thing together."

"So, do you know what the professor's gonna be doing tonight?" the Doctor interrupted again and Rose took the opportunity to snatch one of the remaining hors d'oeuvres from his hand. He didn't even seem to notice. "That looks like it might be a sonic microfield manipulator."

"He's a science geek. I should've known." Tish glanced slyly at her sister. "Got to get back to work now. I'll catch up with you later." She smiled once more at her sister then strolled off, her heels clicking against the ground.

The Doctor swallowed the food in his mouth and asked, "'Science geek' – what does that mean?"

"That you're obsessively enthusiastic about it." Martha said.

He grinned, liking the description. "Oh. Nice."

"She just called you a nerd, Doctor." Rose pointed out.

"There is nothing wrong with nerds, Rose Tyler. Some of the greatest inventions in human history are thanks to nerds. Now, let's go and get a closer look at this, shall we? Ooh—I haven't tried those yet," he added to himself, watching another tray go by. He started after it but Rose held out her arm to stop him.

"Ah, ah, Doctor. Focus. You check out the sonic micro-thing, I'll chase down the tray."

"'Sonic micro-thing?' _Really_, that's the best you can come up with?"

Rose rolled her eyes and pointed at the machine then hurried off to catch the serving girl with the tray.

"Well?" Martha asked. "What do you think?"

"I think she looks beautiful," he said quietly, staring after her.

"What?" Martha blinked and caught on a second later. "No, I didn't mean about Rose. I meant about this bloody great thing."

"Huh? Oh! Right, sorry. Um…yeah…probably, a sonic microfield manipulator—I'd say about a ninety-five percent chance. A very crude model, but given the current time and technology, I suppose it's not too shabby. But…" he trailed off, walking towards it. "What could he possibly do with this that would change what it means to be human?"

"I dunno," Martha murmured.

The Doctor stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets and rocked back on his heels, staring intently at it. Martha alternated between looking at him, the machine, and watching for Rose to come back until a familiar voice called her name. She turned and saw her brother, Leo, wearing a suit and black tie as Tish had said, and on his arm was her—

"Mum!" she gasped, hurdling towards her with her arms outstretched. She wrapped her in a fierce hug, never having been more grateful to see her mother in her entire life. She felt her eyes burn as tears threatened to build and she blinked them away quickly. It felt like it'd been ages since she'd seen her. There'd been moments when she'd been afraid she never would again.

"Alright," her mum said, cradling her head. "What's the occasion?"

"What do you mean? I'm…just pleased to see you, that's all."

"You saw me last night."

_Oh, God, it really _has_ been only a day for her_. She tilted her head innocently. "I know. I just…miss you." She shrugged and turned to her brother, tapping his chest fondly. "You're looking good, Leo."

He chuckled, "Yeah, if anyone asks me to fetch them a drink, I'll swing for them."

Unfortunately, Francine's attention was suddenly preoccupied by the man standing behind her daughter who was watching their exchange too intently for someone just casually eavesdropping. "You disappeared last night," she mused, eyeing the man.

"I…just went home."

"On your own?" she probed, looking at her daughter disapprovingly, and glanced at the Doctor again.

Martha groaned inwardly. She couldn't put it off now that her mum had seen him. She just wished she could've introduced him and Rose together. She could only imagine what her mum was speculating. "This is a friend of mine, the Doctor."

"Doctor what?"

"No, it's just the Doctor. We've been doing some work together."

"Yeah, alright?" Leo reached out to shake his hand and the Doctor returned the gesture with a friendly smile.

"Lovely to meet you, Mrs. Jones," he said, shaking her hand as well. "Heard a lot about you."

"Have you?" she asked coolly. "What have you heard, then?"

Rose couldn't have timed her return more perfectly if she'd tried. She strolled up, her hands cupped around a few little delicacies with she promptly held out to the Time Lord whom she had unwittingly just saved from what had promised to be an awkward conversation. "Here you are, then, Doctor. Oi, only one of each, the others are ours."

The Doctor took two and looked them over curiously. "Oh, look, this one's got a banana slice in it! That's brilliant." He tossed it into his mouth, grinning as he chewed.

Rose held out her hands to Martha so she could take her two and flashed a bright smile at Francine. "Hello! You must be Martha's mum! And her brother, Leo—right? I'd shake your hand but mine aren't free at the mo."

"And who might you be?" Francine asked, her eyes narrowing further.

Rose gave her one of her brightest smiles, the kind that usually won people over. "Oh, I'm Rose Tyler. Nice to meet you."

"Are you a friend of my daughter's as well?"

"Yeah, I'd like to think so. She's been helpin' us with our work."

"She's absolutely brilliant," the Doctor added with his mouth full of food.

"Oh?" Francine arched one eyebrow. "And what sort of work do you do?"

They were saved from having to answer by someone tapping a glass with a spoon to call attention. "Ladies and gentlemen!"

They all turned to face Professor Lazarus who stood in front of the capsule as the lights went dim. The murmur of voices died, the music faded, and cameras clicked and flashed.

"I am Professor Richard Lazarus, and tonight I am going to perform a miracle. It is, I believe, the most important advance since Rutherford split the atom, the biggest leap since Armstrong stood on the moon. Tonight, you will watch and wonder. Tomorrow, you'll awake to a world which will be changed forever."

Rose and the Doctor glanced at each other nervously. His eyes were hard and hers were a tiny bit afraid.

Lazarus turned and pulled open the door to the cylindrical capsule and stepped inside. Cameras continued to click and flash, capturing this momentous moment, and stopped only when he shut the door behind him. The lab assistants moved about behind the tables, flipping switches and pressing buttons, and the machine flared to life with a high-pitched whine and a near-blinding white light. Everyone flinched. People moved to shield their eyes, Rose included, and the whine increased.

The four pillars stretched upward and started to rotate, moving in a circle around the capsule. An energy field began to build up, light flashing and crackling within. Faster and faster the pillars rotated, the hum of the machine combining with the whirl of the air being stirred up within. Rings of light shot up the capsule and what looked like a ball of water was building up at the top, spilling downward. Light flashed and crackled. Only the Doctor stood firm in it all.

Then a klaxon began to blare.

_Not good!_ Rose thought, shielding her eyes against a particularly painful flash of light. "Something's wrong. It's overloading!" She heard the Doctor shout. The building around them began to shake and people cried out in alarm and terror.

The technicians tried to shut it down but the equipment was exploding around them. The Doctor hurdled over the tables, whipping out his sonic screwdriver. Rose nearly toppled over when another tremor shook them but Leo caught her by the arms. She saw Martha and her mother clinging to each other for support and she met Martha's terrified gaze for a moment before whipping her head around to look for the Doctor. His face was intense as he worked to shut the machine down.

An old woman screamed for someone to stop him.

"If this thing goes up, it'll take the whole building with it!" the Doctor shouted back at her. "Is that what you want?!"

The water was spilling over the capsule now and the pillars whizzed around it faster than ever. The machine crackled and whined. The Doctor leaped over the table again and with an almighty yank, he ripped a thick black chord from the back of one of the controls and the machine slowed to a stop. The light stopped flashing, the water disappeared as the energy field dissipated, and the pillars slowed to a stop, returning to their original positions.

Martha pulled away from her mother and ran up to the capsule at the same time the Doctor rounded it, shouting, "Get it open!"

Rose felt Leo release her arms and she darted over to the Doctor as Martha wrenched the door of the capsule open. The crowd drifted forward. Through the smoke, a figured emerged. The cameras flashed wildly, capturing the image of the man that stood before them. He had to be only thirty, thirty-five at best. Young, handsome, and blonde—nothing like the old man who had stepped inside the capsule just minutes ago. He looked at his hands and touched one to his face in amazement. He laughed then emerged fully from the capsule and stood proudly in front of his machine.

"Ladies and gentlemen…I am Richard Lazarus. I am 76 years old…and I am reborn!" he shouted, spreading his arms wide over his head in triumph.

Photographers snapped photos wildly and people cheered and applauded at the miracle they had witnessed. A human being had successfully defied the laws of nature and turned back his biological clock. If Rose hadn't seen it herself she wouldn't have believed it. She still almost didn't believe it, except that when she looked at the Doctor's face, she saw an expression of foreboding that spoke volumes. Lazarus descended into the crowd and they welcomed him like a hero. Everyone wanted to shake his hand, to talk to him, to have his or her photo taken with him: the old man who became young again.

Francine and Leo were lost with the crowd, or perhaps they just went to find Tish. Which was perfectly fine with Martha. It gave the Doctor a chance to examine the machine without being harassed by her mother. He couldn't do much more than look at the exteriorly visible mechanics since attempting to disassemble it, scan it with the screwdriver, or lick it would get him promptly hauled off.

"That can't be the same guy," Martha said to Rose. "That's impossible. It must be a trick."

"I don't think so," she replied.

"It's not," the Doctor agreed. "I wish it were."

Martha turned to face them. "What just happened, then?"

The Doctor inhaled through his teeth, watching Lazarus getting his picture taking. "He just changed what it means to be human."

Rose sighed. "Well…considering all the things he could've done, this isn't that bad, right?"

The Doctor looked at her gravely. "Maybe. Or maybe it's far worse than we know. To do what he's done…he's been altered at the molecular level. Human beings shouldn't be playing with their genes—not in this century or the next—and especially not at his stage in life. In 23rd century they produce the first genetic altering apparatus. It allows parents to choose what generic traits their child will display while it's still in the womb. The gender they have no control over, but they can pick hair color, eye color, and even metabolism levels from their potential genes. Remarkable technology but that's the earliest form of reliable genetic altercations and it's only safe during the first trimester. After that and, well, you could've asked for a ginger and wound up with your baby having orange skin and blood red hair."

He shook his head, his eyes following Lazarus' progression through the room the way anyone would watch a poisonous snake. "This kind of thing won't be possible for several million years and even then it's only successfully halts your aging for about two to five years and if anyone does it more than once a decade they usually end up regressed entirely to an infant…or they're aged to a husk." he added, shrugging. "It's tricky business, messing with DNA."

"What about Cassandra?" Rose asked. "She was over two thousand years old, wasn't she?"

He made a face. "Well, yeah, but she was also born billions of years in the future. By then anti-aging is practically child's play, if you can afford it. In some societies anti-aging procedures start when you turn five. You don't become an adult until you're fifty."

"Hey," Martha snapped her fingers in front of his eyes. The Doctor frowned at her crossly. "Save the lectures for later and focus, thank you. What are we going to do about him?"

The Doctor took a deep breath and his cheeks puffed out as he exhaled. "Well, first we find out how much he knows about what he's done. Come on."

They'd lost sight of Lazarus when Martha drew their attention to her so they circled the room, looking for the thick cluster of people that he'd had around him. Instead they found him off to the side with an old woman and a tray in his hand, shoving one snack after the other into his mouth.

"I'm famished!" they heard him say.

"Energy deficit," the Doctor explained and Lazarus turned in surprise. "Always happens with this kind of process."

"You talk as if you see this every day, mister…"

"Doctor. And, well, no, not every day, but I have some experience in this kind of transformation."

Rose nearly snorted.

Lazarus's smile was a bit frosty. "That's not possible."

"Using hypersonic sound waves to create a state of resonance," the Doctor said. The total _what the hell_ look on Lazarus's face would've been funny if the situation weren't so serious. "That's—that's inspired."

Lazarus's expression was guarded. "You understand the theory, then."

"Enough to know that you couldn't possibly have allowed for all the variables."

He regarded him somewhat disdainfully for a moment and then lifted another bite from the tray. "No experiment is entirely without risk."

"That thing nearly exploded," the Doctor said as Lazarus sucked the remains off his thumb. "You might as well have stepped into a blender."

The woman frowned, shaking her head slightly. "You're not qualified to comment.

"If I hadn't stopped it, it would have exploded."

"Then I thank you, Doctor." Lazarus tilted his head in gratitude. "But that's a simple engineering issue. What happened inside the capsule was exactly what was supposed to happen. No more, no less."

Rose laughed once without humor. "You sure about that, mate?" she asked, her East End accent so glaringly obvious among the posh, cultured tones around her.

"You're even less qualified." the woman snapped, lifting her nose.

Her eyes hardened. "An' what makes you say that?" She knew damn well what the woman was thinking. Rose just wanted to hear what she'd come up with.

"She's right, though." Martha cut in before Rose's temper could really get going or the Doctor's expression got any darker. "You have no way of knowing that until you've run proper tests."

Lazarus laughed at their worries. "Look at me. You can see what happened. I'm all the proof you need."

"This device will be properly certified before we start to operate commercially," the woman said to reassure them.

"Commercially?!" Martha exclaimed. "You are joking. That'll cause chaos."

"Not chaos—change," Lazarus corrected evenly. "A chance for humanity to evolve, to improve."

The Doctor was glaring at him now. "This isn't about improving. It's about you and your customers living a little longer."

"Not a little longer, Doctor—a lot longer. Perhaps indefinitely."

"Richard, we have things to discuss. Upstairs." The woman gave the trio another look and walked away.

"Goodbye, Doctor," Lazarus bid with a wave. He stopped, spinning on his heel, and added superiorly, "In a few years, you'll look back and laugh at how wrong you were."

He held out his hand to Martha who took it automatically, though her face wrinkled in disgust when he bent to kiss it. He moved to take Rose's hand as well but she just arched her eyebrow, completely unimpressed. He smiled politely and walked way.

"Ooh, he's out of his depth." the Doctor murmured when he was out of earshot. "He has no idea of the damage he might have done."

"So what do we do now?" Martha asked.

"You mean besides go after that old cow and rip her a new one?" Rose asked through her teeth.

"As appealing as that sounds, we do have more important things at the moment." The Doctor looked around. "This building must be full of laboratories. I say we do our own tests."

"Lucky I've just collected a DNA sample then, isn't it?" Martha asked, holding up the hand Lazarus kissed and wiggled her fingers.

"Oh!" The Doctor beamed her. "Martha Jones, you're a star!"

Martha shrugged one shoulder like it was no big deal. She followed the Doctor and Rose towards a side door feeling quite proud of herself.

Francine Jones watched them go, noting the formation they fell into: him in the front with the two girls following at either shoulder. Flanking him. That—that Doctor man, she didn't like or trust him. There was just something about the way they looked at him and followed his orders without question. Martha had never blindly obeyed someone. She'd always been too smart for that. But all of the sudden it seemed that the Doctor said 'jump' and she asked 'how high?'

And that blonde woman, Rose—she dressed nice but the way she curved her vowels and chopped off the ends of her words gave her away. She was probably just some low class chav that he'd picked up, the way Clive had picked up Annalise.

_What if she isn't the only one?_ Francine thought with alarm. Was Rose just the one he brought along tonight? How many others were there? Did this Doctor plan to add her daughter to his harem?

Well, not if she had anything to say about it.

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**So, I don't know how many of you follow me on tumblr (username is wintermoth) but one of my friends made a gifset of a scene for me. If you go to my blog, it's: post/43731649322 and seriously, later in the day when I could actually talk, I was practically _screeching _about it. **So if anyone wants to make me some fanart I really won't object at all.

**Leave me some reviews to read while I wallow in my misery for the next few days. Dey make me feel better and look at the screen like a cross between *-* and :3**


	16. Falls the Shadow

**Damn. O_o A lot of you have a tumblr...**

**AND to all my anon/guest reviewers...guuuuyyyss, I can't respond to guest reviews XD MESSAGE ME ON YOUR ACCOUNTS SO I CAN LOVE YOU. And answer your questions.**

* * *

Rose pinched the bridge of her nose, leaning with her back against the counter. She'd been silently listening to the two people with knowledge about molecular structures talk back and forth about the old-ish man with funky DNA, unable to provide any decent input, and just barely following along. They kept firing off terms she might have learnt once years ago when she was in school and then promptly forgot, and some she was sure she'd never heard outside one of the Doctor's ramblings.

"So, let me get this straight." she interrupted, needing some clarity. "He hacked into his DNA like computer and told them to wind back the clock?"

"Yep, looks like," the Doctor said. "This kind of thing has never succeeded. In the future they manage to slow aging but never reverse it. Not in humans, anyway."

"And his genes are still mutating now." Martha pointed out.

"Why?" Rose asked. "He's young again. Is he going to keep getting younger 'til he's a baby?"

"No," the Doctor murmured, watching the screen register another mutation. "He missed something in his tests. Something in his DNA has been activated and won't let him stabilize. Something that's trying to change him."

"Fantastic," Rose muttered. "This day just keeps getting better and better and we haven't even had lunch yet. What's he going to change into, Doctor?"

"I dunno but I think we need to find out."

"Well, the cow said they were going upstairs."

"Then let's go!"

Leaving the computer up—perhaps as a warning to anyone who happened along—the Doctor loped out of the lab. Things had barely started and they were already running and Martha was regretting choosing to wear heels. She was beginning to understand why Rose chose to wear trainers, boots, and flats. You just never knew when you'd have to start running when you traveled with the Doctor. The lift was waiting for them when Rose pressed the button. They rode up to the next floor then had to switch to another elevator that would take them to the executive offices.

Lazarus's office was on the very top floor. The elevator opened to a large dark room. The Doctor pressed a button on the wall and the lights came up, revealing a professionally furnished room that must've encompassed almost the entire floor. Several screens displayed the company's logo decorated the walls, along with several photographs and the desk on the far side had a small statue on it.

"This is his office, alright," Martha muttered.

"So, where is he?" the Doctor wondered.

Rose shrugged. "Maybe he and the cow popped out for a quick fag."

"No." He shook his head. "He's a smart man. Even if he smokes he'd no better than to introduce harmful substances to his body so soon after that kind of process."

"Must've gone back down to the re…ception." Martha's voice hitched and the Doctor looked at her in alarm. Rose gasped when she noticed the skeletal pair of legs wearing heels poking out from behind the desk. The Doctor followed their horrified gazes then they rushed over to shrunken remains of a finely dressed woman.

Rose put her hand over her mouth and Martha gasped. The Doctor kneeled down by the corpse.

"Is that Lady Thaw?" Martha asked, kneeling as well.

"Used to be," the Doctor said grimly. Rose made a face but remained standing. She'd had no fondness for the woman but she hadn't wanted anything like this to happen to her. A nice verbal lashing would've been sufficient. Maybe a cup of ice water or wine dumped on her head. But not this.

"Now she's just a shell," he went on. "Had all the life energy drained out of her… Like squeezing the juice out of an orange."

"Did he do this?" Rose asked.

"Could be."

Martha's eyes were wide. "So he's changed already?"

"Not necessarily. You saw the DNA. It was fluctuating. The process must demand energy. This might not have been enough."

"He's gonna do this again?" Rose half-yelled. "What are we standin' here for then, c'mon!"

They left Lady Thaw where she was. She could be dealt with later. Right now they had several dozen living people who had no idea how much danger they were in to worry about, including Martha's family. Down the private lifts and around to the public ones, Martha pressed the call button half a dozen times in her hurry. The lift arrived and they clamored in, the doors shutting just before the adjacent lift opened and deposited its two passengers. The moment the reception room became visible through the clear elevator walls, Martha, Rose, and the Doctor moved to different sides of the elevator to scan for Lazarus. The door opened and they walked briskly out past the food tables and string quartet into the crowd.

"I can't see him." Martha said.

"Nor me," added Rose.

"He can't be far." The Doctor craned his neck to see over the heads. "Keep looking."

"Hey, you all right, Martha?" Her brother Leo stood near the machine with a wine glass in his hand and an amused look on his face. Martha stopped in front of him and Rose, realizing she'd stopped, paused as well. "I think Mum wants a word with you."

"Have you seen Lazarus anywhere?" Martha asked him. The Doctor turned and walked back towards them.

"Yeah, well, he was getting cozy with Tish a couple of minutes ago."

Rose's face twisted in disgust. "Oh, that's just gross."

"With Tish!" Martha told the Doctor frantically just as her mother arrived.

"Aaahh, Doctor—" she began but he cut her off.

"Where did they go?" he demanded.

"Upstairs, I think. Why?" Leo said and the Doctor was moving before he even finished speaking. He pushed past Francine, spilling her drink on her, and made for the lift.

"Doctor—I'm speaking to you!" Francine shouted after him as both girls rushed past her.

"Not now Mum!" Martha hissed over her shoulder.

The ride back upstairs seemed to take forever and no time at all. Marta shifted her weight from foot to foot, her hands curling and uncurling in agitation, and she shook with barely restrained terror. A thousand terrible thoughts ran through her head. What if they were too late? What if he'd already killed her? What would Tish look like as a desiccated corpse? What would she say to her Mum? _How _could she tell her Mum?

The Doctor put his hand on her shoulder to steady her and she nearly jumped out of her skin. When the lift arrived at Lazarus's office they were scrambling through before the doors had even fully opened. Martha looked around wildly for any sign of her sister or Lazarus but the office was empty.

"Where are they?" she cried.

The Doctor reached into his jacket and withdrew his sonic screwdriver. "The fluctuating DNA will give off an energy signature. I might be able to pick it up." He adjusted the setting and flicked it on. The tiny sonic device pulsed to life and he slowly scanned the room. It started beeping, faster and faster, and he lifted his arms. "Got it."

He was pointing to the ceiling.

"But this is the top floor!"

"They're on the roof." Rose realized. The three of them exchanged horrified looks, the Doctor shoving the sonic back into his jacket, and they made a beeline for the stairs.

They practically flew up the stairs. Martha snarled threats under her breath about what she'd do if that madman had hurt her sister. Rose and the Doctor silently agreed to help her or at the very least let her. They slowed to halt just in front of the door outside. The Doctor held a finger to his lips, motioning for them to be silent. It was probably best not to burst out there in case spooking Lazarus somehow set him off.

He eased the door open and they quietly crept out onto the roof, shutting the door as quietly as possible. Tish and Lazarus were standing with their backs to the door. Tish was asking him if it was like he'd expected and, thankfully, didn't appear to be hurt.

"I find that nothing's ever exactly like you expect." Lazarus replied evenly. "There's always something to surprise you…. 'Between the idea and the reality, between the motion and the act—'"

"'Falls the shadow'," the Doctor finished, effectively announcing their presence.

They turned, Lazarus's eyebrows lifting in mild surprise. "So the mysterious Doctor knows his Eliot. I'm impressed." He smiled darkly.

"Martha, what are you doing here?" Tish asked.

"Tish, get away from him." Martha ordered.

"What? Don't tell me what to do."

"Wouldn't have thought you had time for poetry, Lazarus," the Doctor said. "What with you being so busy defying the laws of nature."

"You're right, Doctor." Lazarus agreed. "One lifetime's been too short for me to do everything I'd like. How much more I'll get done in two or three or four."

"Doesn't work like that. Some people live more in twenty years than others do in eighty. It's not the time that matters. It's the person."

"But if it's the right person," he countered, "What a gift that could be."

"Or what a curse." The Doctor's voice lost its edge and became soft, pleading with Lazarus to see why this was wrong. "Look at what you've done to yourself."

But he only managed to make the man angry. "Who are you to judge me?"

"Over here, Tish," Martha beckoned, motioning to her sister to come, which she did, thankfully.

"You have to spoil everything, don't you?" Tish demanded. "Every time I find someone nice, you have to try and find fault."

Behind them, Lazarus's mouth opened, his face lifting like he was about to sneeze, and he sucked in a breath.

"Tish, he's a monster!" she exclaimed, looking behind her sister.

He grunted in pain as his back arched, his arms curving, and crumpled to the ground.

"I know the age things a bit freaky but it works for Catherine Zeta-Jones." Only then did she seem to realize that none of them were looking at her. An inhuman growling caused her to turn. Tish wasn't exactly sure what she'd expected to see but it wasn't what she _that_.

Rose thought it wasn't unlike watching the man transform into the werewolf in the cellar of the Torchwood Estate, just a lot more disturbing. His body was contorting into something inhuman, skin stretched, ripped, mended itself in some places and didn't in others. Limbs lengthened and reshaped, new ones appeared in places they shouldn't. Every single one of his ribs was visible above a gaping hole where his guts should be. A long armored tail extended from his back. The end effect was a monstrous scorpion-like creature with Lazarus's face at the end of a long neck.

"What is that?" Tish demanded.

The monster reared up on its hind legs and looked down at them, arms lifted in a threatening manner.

"RUN!" the Doctor shouted.

They ran.

The Doctor sealed the lock on the door with the sonic while the girls fled down the stairs. No sooner had he succeeded did the monster start banging against the door, roaring and snaring. Rose stopped at the bottom of the stairs and waited for the Doctor to come down. He grabbed her hand as they passed and nearly pulled her arm out of its socket in his hurry to get them both away.

"Are you okay?" Martha asked Tish.

"I was gonna snog him."

If Rose didn't happen to be in love with an alien that was well over nine hundred she would've had something to say about that. But as it was she couldn't think of any way to belittle the woman for her stupidity without possibly scaring off the Doctor as well.

Above them, the thing that used to be Lazarus continued to bang on the door. He finally did it one time too many and tripped the high-class security system and an alarm began to blare. A computerized voice repeated "Security breach" over the PA. The lights around them went off, immediately replaced by dimmer ones as the building went into lockdown, switching to the backup generators to power the lights.

"What's happening?" Martha whispered.

"An intrusion," Tish responded almost mechanically. She closed her eyes and tried to focus. "It triggers a security lockdown, kills most of the power, stops the lifts, seals the exits."

Another roar and bang above them and the four of them looked back the way they came.

"He must be breaking through that door." the Doctor realized. Another loud bang against the door and the Doctor turned around, his eyes alight. "The stairs! Come on!"

They hurtled themselves down the stairs, hanging onto the railing to avoid falling in their haste. Rose was silently thanking the TARDIS for her nice selection of flat shoes while Martha inwardly cursed herself for not having followed Rose's lead and gone without the heels. She was also silently wondering why she was even considering spending an indefinite amount of time living with these two if they couldn't even go to a party without having to run for their lives. Then again, they'd all known going in that something would be amiss. She should've expected something like this to happen.

From above came the sound of the door clattering against the wall as it was forced open, followed by a monstrous roar. They all froze for a moment, looking up in horror.

"He's inside!" Martha shouted.

"Come on!" the Doctor called, a flight below her. "We haven't got much time."

"Oh my God, we're gonna die!" Tish wailed.

"No we're not! Keep running!"

When they sprinted into the reception hall they found all of the guests just standing about in confusion like sheep without a shepherd. The Doctor looked around, trying to count how many people were here, calculating how much damage Lazarus would cause when he arrived, and trying to work out some way to stop him. First things first, though, he had to get the humans out before anyone got killed. The lifts were out and those stairs only led up.

"Tish, is there another way out of here?" he asked.

"There's an exit in the corner." She pointed in the general direction of it. "But it'll be locked up now."

He pulled out the sonic screwdriver from his pocket and tossed it to Rose. "Rose, setting 54. Hurry!" She caught it with a nod and hurried towards the door with Martha and Tish. That was his companions safe and out of the way, now for the rest of them. He leaped onto the stairs around the machine.

"Listen to me!" he shouted to get their attention. "You people are in serious danger! You need to get out of here, right now!"

A woman near the front of the group sneered. "Don't be ridiculous. The biggest danger here is choking on an olive."

_Why does no one _ever _listen?!_

Jus then from the direction of the stairs came a loud shattering noise and the sound of heavy footsteps. The Lazarus-monster appeared on the loft above them and reared up. He let out a guttural roar and people stared in horror. The Doctor quietly cursed in his native language and Lazarus jumped down onto the floor below, crushing a table beneath him. People began to scream and scatter in panic. Those who'd overheard Tish flocked towards the door and most of the others followed suit.

Most of them.

The woman in the gold dress remained where she was out of disbelief or perhaps she was just paralyzed with terror. In any case she was still frozen when the Lazarus-monster loomed over her, his jaws splitting and gaping wide. But he didn't eat her. He swung his tail forward. The end of it uncurled into what looked like some sort of straw and the Doctor realized what he was about to do.

"NO! Get away from her!" he shouted.

The woman screamed her last and the Lazarus-monster pierced the top of her head with it's straw. There was a single, almighty slurp and she was reduced before his eyes into a withered husk that looked like it'd been dead for decades and not nanoseconds.

Then the Lazarus-monster turned towards the closest pair of humans, which just so happened to be Martha's mother and brother. It advanced on them, growling, and the Doctor was filled with rage. He could barely tolerate when people tried to hurt his companions, but when they went after his companions' families, that just crossed the line. His companions accepted the risk when they chose to come with him, their families didn't. In the past their families usually never even really knew. He'd become familiar with Rose's family and look at what had happened to them—trapped on one side of the Void with her on the other.

Martha would not lose her family as well. He simply wouldn't allow it.

"Lazarus!" he shouted and the monster rounded on him. "Leave them alone!"

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Martha and Rose kneeling beside Francine and Leo and the Doctor prayed that Rose would not try to follow him.

"What's the point?" he demanded. "You can't control it. The mutation's too strong. Killing those people won't help you."

The Lazarus monster growled at him.

"You're a fool," he said quietly and the monster's face twisted angrily. "A vain old man who thought he could defy nature. Only nature got her own back, didn't she? You're a joke, Lazarus!" the Doctor shouted. "A footnote in the history of failure."

That did it. The Lazarus-monster reared up to attack him and the Doctor ran.

"Doctor!" Rose shrieked and started to follow him, but Martha caught her before she got too far. "Let go of me!"

"Rose, you're only gonna get yourself killed." Martha told her, glancing momentarily at the terrified guests trying to escape. "We have to get these people out!"

Rose continued to struggle for a moment more, threw one last desperate look at the way the Doctor and the monster had gone, then allowed Martha to pull her towards her family.

"What's the Doctor doing?" Tish asked.

"He's trying to buy us some time. Let's not waste it." Martha said. She put her hands on either side of her brother's face and lifted his head. "Leo, look at me. Focus on me. Let's see your eyes. …He's got a concussion. Mum, you'll need to help him downstairs." She moved over to the table behind them and grabbed a few ice cubes from the pale and wrapped them in a cloth napkin. "This will keep the swelling down."

Francine took the napkin, placing it gently against her son's temple, and started to help him down the stairs. "Go, I'll be right behind you." Martha said then grabbed her sister by the arms. "Tish, move. We need to get out of here."

Tish went but Rose didn't even move except to back at the reception hall. He wasn't entirely hopeless without her, she knew, but he would probably need his sonic, and what if something happened to him because she wasn't there to help?

"Rose!" Martha shouted and she jumped, startled, looking down at the hand gripping her arm. "Move!"

"If he dies I'll never forgive myself for not goin' after him."

"If you die he'll never forgive _me_ for letting you go after him!" Digging her nails into Rose's skin, she pulled the stubborn blonde down the stairs with her.

On the main floor the crowd of partygoers were crowding around the doors, banging and pressing futilely. Martha's family stood in the back of the group, Leo leaning heavily on his mother.

"We can't get out!" Tish cried. "We're trapped."

"No we're not," Rose said, flipping the sonic screwdriver in her hand.

"Those doors don't have locks like the one upstairs."

"There must be an override switch." Martha said. "Where's the security desk? Tish!"

"There!"

Rose ran towards it and Martha followed. Rose pushed herself onto the desk and slid across and bolted for the panel against the wall. She pointed the screwdriver at the controls and turned it on. A moment later the lights came on and the terrified people were able to push the doors open. They spilled through the doorway and ran screaming down the steps.

"You did it!" Martha laughed and Rose smiled grimly back at her. She pushed herself back across the desk and followed Martha towards the doors where people were frantically filing out.

Francine smiled in relief when she saw her daughter had returned unharmed. And she supposed it was good that the other woman was fine, too. She had gotten them out, after all. "Come on, let's get out of here," she said.

Rose stopped, pressed her lips together in deliberation for a moment, and then shook her head. "No."

"What?" Martha spun around. "What do you mean no?"

"I'm going back. I have to Martha."

"You can't! You saw what that thing did." Francine protested. "It'll kill you!"

"She's right. Please," Martha pleaded.

"I have to. This is what everyone else before me has always done." Rose said quietly so Martha's family wouldn't overhear. "He has to survive no matter what, even if it means we don't. So that means you run headfirst into the thick of things and you risk your life to keep him alive, 'cos your life means nothin' next to his."

Martha stared at her somberly.

"And if you can't understand that then you should probably just stay here with your family." Rose gripped the sonic tightly in her hand and backed away from her.

Martha licked her lips and bit the bottom one. Rose waited. Finally, she nodded. "Right. Let's go."

Tish spoke up from behind her. "He was biding us time. Time for you to get out too."

"Doesn't matter," Martha said without turning. "You get out. We're going back."

"What did you say to her?" Francine glared at the young blonde who was trying to lead her daughter into danger.

Rose's eyes glinted and she met her gaze evenly. "I told her the truth."

And Francine Jones could do nothing but watch helplessly as the girl led her daughter back up the stairs until Tish pulled her out the door.

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**See this kitty sitting here next to me? Her name is Layla. She demands you all give me reviews. It is unwise to disobey the kitty.**


	17. Southwark Cathedral

**My hair is purple so I'm giving this to y'all early. Enjoy.**

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Half an hour later, the Doctor, Martha Jones, and Rose Tyler emerged from Lazarus Laboratories after the paramedics. They were all tired, sore, hungry, and a little depressed, but otherwise no worse for the wear. Rose's hair had come loose during the running and subsequent squishing inside the machine and there was really no hope of fixing it so she just pulled the hair tie and bobby pins out and let the rest fall free. She combed her fingers through it and the Doctor undid his tie and top button while they watched the stretcher carrying Lazarus's body being loaded into the ambulance. A few photographers were snapping away.

"Are we going now?" she asked. They never stuck around for the cleanup.

"Yeah," the Doctor murmured in reply.

At that moment, Tish noticed her sister standing on the staircase and rushed towards her. "Oh, she's alright!" She pulled Martha into a fierce hug, which was gladly recuperated.

Francine Jones stalked towards them with a furious look on her face. The Doctor saw her coming but somehow seemed to miss her expression.

"Oh, Mrs. Jones, we still haven't finished our chat." he said with a grin that was promptly smacked right off his face.

Rose stepped towards the woman, ready to rip her a new one. "Hey, what do you think you're—"

Francine shoved her back forcefully. "You keep away from my daughter!" she snarled at them.

"Mum, what are you doing?!" Martha demanded. Francine turned to her daughter.

"Always the mothers." the Doctor said to himself, rubbing the sore spot. "Every time."

"He is _dangerous_ and so is she! I've been told things."

"What are you talking about?" Martha asked.

Francine grabbed her daughter's arms. "Look around you. Nothing but death and destruction."

"I'm sorry," Rose interrupted angrily. "But you seemed to have forgotten that he saved your sorry arse in there!"

"And not just you, he saved all of us!" Martha shouted, breaking her mother's grip.

Rose looked up at the Doctor and touched his had gently. He glanced down and their eyes met and she saw the pain Francine's words had caused. Everywhere he went it seemed that someone got hurt and he blamed himself, even if he wasn't responsible. And there would always be someone who felt the need to remind him of that. He curled his fingers around hers, squeezing, and she wanted to kiss him right then in there.

Except at that moment there was a very loud crash from the direction of the ambulance that Lazarus had been loaded. Loud crashes were never good especially not when they were coming from the direction a supposedly defeated enemy had gone. The Doctor looked at Rose, then at Martha, and the three of them headed for the ambulance.

Francine reached out and caught her daughter by the arm and told her to leave them. The look her face was almost enough to break her resolve. Almost. But Rose's words were stronger. She wanted to travel with them. She wanted the stars and the universe and she wanted to help people. If risking her neck was the price then she would gladly pay it. So Martha shook her head at her mother and ran after them.

When they arrived at the ambulance they found the remains of the two paramedics as shriveled and dry as Lady Thaw and that other woman.

"Lazarus, back from the dead." the Doctor said grimly, pulling out the sonic. "Should've known, really."

"Where's he gone?" Martha asked as the Doctor began to scan. He turned slowly in a circle until he was pointing at one of the buildings.

"That way. The church."

"Cathedral," Tish corrected and the girls turned in surprise. "It's Southwark Cathedral. He told me."

The Doctor nodded and led their procession into the church, sonic screwdriver held aloft and beeping away. The moved slowly through the old building, eyes peeled for any sign of movement. Tish saw her own reflection in her peripheral vision and nearly jumped out of her skin Her gasp caused the rest of them to whirl around expecting to see the giant scorpion looming. The Doctor gave her an exasperated look and motioned for her to be quiet and they kept going. The sonic screwdriver led them into the sanctuary.

The Doctor did a sweep off the room as the women slipped through the door.

"Is he here?" Rose whispered.

"Where would you go if you were looking for sanctuary?" the Doctor asked.

They walked down the main isle. The Doctor kept his eyes to the front and his companions nervously scanned the shadows and alcoves for any sign. The trouble was that it was so dark and the room was simply huge, not counting the upper floor. There were a dozen places he could be and several dozen more if he was human formed. They found him in the very front of the church behind the ornately covered altar, completely naked except for a red blanket over him, choking and panting as he tried to stave off the transformation. The Doctor pocketed the screwdriver and Lazarus looked up at them.

"I came here before," he said quietly. The Doctor slowly started to circle him. "A lifetime ago. I thought I was going to die then. In fact, I was sure of it. I sat there, just a child…the sound of planes and bombs outside."

"The Blitz," the Doctor stated.

Lazarus's eyes flicked up to him. "You've read about it."

"I was there."

Lazarus's face registered surprise before he scoffed. "You're too young."

"So are you."

Lazarus laughed then his face twisted and they heard some of his bones crunch and crack. He cried out in pain, gasping and panting, and leaned forward like he was going to be sick. They watched him, disgusted, and just a bit pitying.

"In the morning the fires had died," Lazarus went on after a moment. "And I was still alive. I swore I'd never face death like that again."

The Doctor used his momentary distraction to circle him some more, his eyes flicking around the church for something he could use. When his head lifted up towards the bell tower, Martha and Rose followed his gaze. There was nothing up there, not even any bells.

"So _defenseless,_" he spat the word. "I would arm myself, fight back, defeat it."

"That's what you were trying to do today."

"That's what I _did_ today."

"What about the other people who died?" the Doctor argued as he continued to walk around him.

"They were nothing," Lazarus said simply. "I changed the course of history."

"Any of them might have done, too. You think history's only made with equations?" he stopped in front of Lazarus. "Facing death is part of being human. You can't change that."

"No, Doctor. Avoiding death—that's being human. It's our strongest impulse, to cling to life with every fiber of being. I'm doing what everyone before me has tried to do…. I've simply been more…successful—_ah!_" He cried out in pain, his back arching.

"Look at yourself. You're mutating. You've no control over it. You call that a success?"

"I call it progress!" His bones continued to crack, his body preparing to morph again. A thin sheet of sweat covered his skin and some of his hair stuck to the sides of his head. After a painful sounding crack, Lazarus spoke again. "I'm more now than I was. More than just an ordinary human."

The Doctor had to smile at that. Of all the foolish things the professor had said and done that night that was the most misguided of them all. "There's no such thing as an ordinary human."

Lazarus went into another round of cracking and popping and Martha crept up to the Doctor's shoulder. "He's gonna change again any minute."

"I know," the Doctor whispered. "If I could get him up into the bell tower somehow, I've got an idea that might work."

"Up there?"

"Uh-huh." He nodded and moved away from the women, keeping Lazarus's attention focused on him.

Martha looked up at the tower for a moment longer then turned to Rose, a question in her eyes. Rose nodded grimly.

"_I've got an idea,_ " she mouthed.

Rose lifted her eyebrows. "_Bait?_ _"_

"_Yeah. Me, you…" _she continued to slowly mouth her idea while the Doctor and Lazarus spoke.

"You're so sentimental, Doctor." Lazarus said quietly, a growl entering his voice. "Maybe you _are_ older than you look."

"I'm old enough to know that a longer life isn't always a better one." the Doctor told him gravely. "In the end, you just get tired— tired of the struggle, tired of watching everything turn to dust." The Doctor knelt down next to Lazarus then. "If you live long enough, Lazarus, the only certainty left is that you'll end up alone."

"That's a price worth paying."

"Is it?"

Rose was trying to catch his eye, but the Doctor wouldn't even look at her. Lazarus's body contorted in pain again. She and Martha slowly inched towards him. They had a plan and hopefully it might work. _For once, _she added.

"I will feed soon," Lazarus told him.

"I'm not gonna let that happen."

"You've not been able to stop me so far."

"Leave him, Lazarus!" Martha interrupted and he turned, his face twisted in a snarl. "He's old and bitter." She grinned slyly, cocking her hip towards Rose who had her hands on her own hips. "We thought you had a taste for fresher meat."

"Martha, Rose, no!" the Doctor barked but it was too late. Lazarus's grin turned predatory and with a guttural snarl, he launched himself at them.

They'd been expecting this and they were already running by the time he was in the air. They hadn't expected Tish to follow to 'keep them out of trouble.' Rose shouted over her shoulder about the tower and then started up the staircase. Their feet clacked against the stone steps as they raced up the circular passage. Rose had to hitch her skirt up so she wouldn't trip. Below them they heard Lazarus groan and snarl and Tish stopped.

"Don't just stand here!" Rose all but shrieked. "He's changed again!"

"We have to keep moving. We have to lead him up." Martha told her sister urgently.

Lazarus's snarls and roars echoed off the stone around them. The staircase led into a narrow hallway that was some sort of service passage. A pipeline ran along the wall above the arched openings and the side they'd emerged from was lined with curved stone beams. Rose led them down the hall in the direction of the bell tower. There had to be someway for people to access the tower for maintenance. Hopefully they'd find another service staircase.

From below she heard the Doctor call her name frantically. She stopped at the closest arch and poked her head through. "Here!"

"Take him to the top—the very top of the bell tower! Do you hear me?"

"Got it! Then what?"

"Rose!" Martha gasped, tapping her shoulder urgently.

Rose withdrew her head, looked at Martha, then at the approaching mutant monster. She let out a curse and they ran like mad. Around the corner they found another staircase and they sprinted up it. Martha screeched that when this was over that she'd never wear heels again. If they weren't busy running for their lives from a mutant monster that she was sure humans looked like in at least one alternate universe, Rose might have laughed.

The top of the bell tower turned out to be a small octagon surrounding a circular hole in the floor and the only thing that kept hem from falling into said hole when they rushed through the door was a flimsy wooden rail. They quickly moved around to the far side, looking for an exit that wasn't there.

"There's no where else to go!" Tish whimpered.

"This is where he said to bring him!" Martha exclaimed.

"Alright then so we're not trapped. We're bait. Lovely bloke you've got, Rose."

"We knew we were gonna be the bait. Now trust him, he knows what he's doing." Rose said. "We've gotten out of worse scrapes than this."

"Worse than a giant _thing_ that wants to kill us?!" she screeched.

"Ladies," the Lazarus-monster hissed as he pushed himself through the door. He growled at them, rearing onto his hind legs, and sank two of his pincers into the rail.

Rose gritted her teeth and clenched her fists, stepping in front of Martha even as she was moving to shield her sister. "He'll have to get through me, first." Rose told them. "If you can, go through the door and get back downstairs. I'll keep him busy."

"You can't!" Tish protested.

"I _can_," Rose told her and turned back to Lazarus just in time to see his tail swinging towards them.

They ducked and someone screamed. It might've been all three of them. He drew back and swung his tail at them again. This time they had to dive to the sides to avoid getting hit. Pipe organ music suddenly blasted through the air, echoing the space around them. Had to be the Doctor, but what did he expect to do with music? Lazarus took another swing and this time he knocked the railing near them clean off. It fell through the hole, leaving them exposed. Rose wisely crawled away from the opening before trying to rise, but Martha didn't.

Next thing she knew, Martha was screaming and Tish was shouting her name and when she looked, Martha was dangling over the side. Lazarus loomed over her, swiping and stabbing at her with his various limbs while she screamed and struggled to hang on.

"Lazarus!" Rose shouted over the music. "Leave her alone! RICHARD LAZARUS!"

He swung his head towards her and, mustering up the courage she'd felt when she'd spoken against the Daleks at Canary Wharf, she shouted at him. "You're nothing, Lazarus! I once looked into Time itself—do you hear me?! _Time itself!_ I saw everything! All that ever was, all that ever could be, from beginning to end! History will forget you!"

Lazarus roared and swung at her. She ducked to avoid him then straightened up and hurled the words at him. "This universe will never forget me! But in a hundred years—a thousand—no one will even remember your name!"

And then she couldn't speak anymore because the music became absolutely deafening. It roared through the air, louder than Lazarus's cries, and she dropped to her knees, pressing her hands firmly over her ears and her eyes squeezed. She might have screamed. If she did she couldn't hear it.

The music stopped abruptly and she opened her eyes, tentatively lowering her hands from her ears, and looked around. Lazarus was gone. Had he fallen?

Martha screamed and Tish lunged forward to grab her sister by the arm. "I've got you! Hold on!"

Rose scrambled around to them and latched onto Martha's other arm. Together she and Tish pulled her up and over the ledge and then they slumped against the wall, panting and holding each other in relief. The Doctor shouted their names. She had to gulp down a few mouthfuls of air before she could shout, "We're okay! We're okay, Doctor."

Martha looked between Rose and Tish. "Thanks."

Tish laughed in relief. "It's your Doctor you should be thanking."

"Told you," Rose said breathlessly.

"He cut it a bit fine though, didn't he?"

"As usual but he never fails." Rose reached up to wipe a tear from her eye.

Tish stared at the woman finding it hard to believe she was the same bright-eyed girl she'd met down at the party a few hours ago. She was no young girl who may or may not have been a science geek. She was someone who looked death in the eye on a regular basis, who willingly put her life and theirs in the hands of a skinny man who was undeniably older than he looked, and never doubted him for a second. She'd been able to convince Martha—the peacekeeper in the family—to run back into the fray. And she'd stood against Lazarus with amber in her eyes and spoke of looking into time itself. "Who _are _you? Both of you?"

Rose seemed to consider her for a moment then her lips curled up into a smile. "We're the Stuff of Legends." Then she covered her face with her hands, resting her head against the wall, and laughed with relief.

A few minutes later Rose was leading their procession back downstairs. She practically sprinted down while Martha and Tish followed more slowly. Martha had absolutely no plans of running any more today, thank you very much. Maybe not even for a week. Though with them there was probably no chance of that happening. When they got back to the main floor they found Rose and the Doctor clinging to each other.

There was a smile on the Doctor's face that Martha hadn't seen before, one that expressed everything he never said, and he closed his eyes contently.

"W-we should get outside," Tish stuttered. "We need to let someone know about him and the paramedics."

The couple loosened their hold on each other and he looked over Rose's head at her with a small smile. "That'll be your job, then."

"What, me? Why?"

"You're head of the PR department, of course."

"Well—well, what should I tell them?"

The Doctor shrugged. "I dunno. You decide."

"But…but I don't even know what happened!"

"And you think I do?" he asked. Tish wasn't the only one that glared at him. "Oh, alright, fine. Tell them that the machine caused the mutations and everything related to the project should be destroyed immediately. Humanity isn't ready for anti-aging technology. You lot will have to stick to vitamins for now. In the mean time, we," he gestured to the three of them, "have to get going."

"You're not gonna come and at least see Mum?" Tish asked her sister.

"And listen to her go off about them some more?" Martha shook her head. "No ta. Just tell her I went home."

Tish frowned shrewdly. "And where are you really going?"

Martha pressed her lips together and they curled up into a smile. "Home."

It was only after they'd left did Tish realize the Doctor had said 'you lot' when he spoke about humans. And after a moment of terror she realized that Martha had heard him as well and hadn't reacted. Neither had Rose. So her sister may or may not be running around with a pair of aliens—that was reassuring. Though, they were only alive thanks to those two so they couldn't be all bad. Still, probably be best if she didn't mention that to her Mum.

At his companions' refusal to walk back to the flat, the Doctor hailed a cab. They spent the ride crammed together in the back seat, Rose using the opportunity to snuggle contently under the Doctor's arm. He himself spent the ride chatting with the cabbie, who'd heard that something had gone down at Lazarus Laboratories and wanted to know if they'd seen anything. When they arrived at the building, Martha ran up to her flat to get some money to pay the driver while Rose and the Doctor waited below. Once he was paid and had driven off, they followed her back upstairs.

The Doctor patted the side of his ship fondly then turned to Martha. "Well then. That's sorted. So, have you made up your mind, then?"

"Yes, I have." Martha said. "I'm coming with you. Right now."

"What about med school and all that?" the Doctor asked while Rose's mouth stretched into a smile.

"I don't have to finish now, do I? You can just drop me back off a few days from now if I ever want a break."

"Well, in that case, welcome aboard the TARDIS, Miss Jones." The Doctor grinned and unlocked the door, holding it open for them. Martha didn't look back once. She didn't even bother to grab any of her things. The wardrobe had enough for her and if not, well, she was sure Rose wouldn't say no to a shopping trip.

The Doctor started the dematerialization sequence and when he informed them that they'd entered the Vortex, Martha breathed a sigh of…relief? No not relief, because then that would mean she was happy to be leaving her family behind. Well, okay, maybe she was. After being the mediator between them all for so long she was eager to have some time away from them and their never-ending drama. She knew that this was only temporary and it would all be there waiting for her when she got back, along with med school, but for now, she was going to follow the Doctor's example and run away.

She took the idea that she'd abandoned them and shoved it to the back of her mind, locking it firmly behind a steel door. She had _not_ abandoned them. She'd be back. And they didn't need her specifically on this night. Lazarus was dead and they were safe.

They'd be fine. They didn't need her.

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**You know, there originally was a kiss in this chapter, but I thought it was too soon... the hug fit better. Y'all should still review, though.**

**Also, consider Martha's thoughts at the end. Then compare them to one of the reasons she leaves the Doctor in the show.**


	18. In Which They Run

**This was so fun to write. You guys don't even know.**

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Two months went by for the travellers in the TARDIS.

Some days they visited other planets. Usually recreational places only: markets and bazaars, theme parks and museums, gardens, parties, and once to a holo-film theater. Sometimes things didn't go as planned and they were either kicked out, or arrested and _then_ kicked out. Other times they were arrested and then told to leave and instead of being forcefully banned, they were simply requested to not return.

Like on the planet Orobis, which was quite a lovely place, with a pink sky and two red suns, and an indigenous population that was very hospitable. The three of them had been walking down the street looking at the various shops, the Doctor and Rose holding hands as usual. It was going fine until he offered his hand to Martha as well. Thirty seconds later he was being arrested for polygamy.

Orobis was, as a whole, very religious and apparently their god had decreed a man could only have one wife. So the Doctor, being the man, was decreed to be the guilty party and was chucked in jail while Martha and Rose were whisked away to undergo a ceremony that would break the marital bonds and free them from their life of sin. They hadn't been able to get a word in edgewise up until the point when they were informed that their clothes would be confiscated and burned for some stupid symbolic reason. Then they managed to get the priests and priestesses to shut up long enough to explain the relationship between the three of them—or lack thereof. An hour later the Doctor was free from prison and they were escorted back to the TARDIS with requests to not return in the near future.

On the flip side of this was Lua, a small planet with four hours of day and twenty-eight of night. The indigenous people were, for lack of a better word, werewolves. Unlike the Lupine Wavelength Haemovariform, the creatures here had only one form, that of a humanoid lupine. They were intelligent and fiercely protective of all that was theirs, especially in the days before their civilizations began to rise. The Doctor, Rose, and Martha found this out the hard way.

They'd landed smack in the middle of the territory of a pack that had just emerged from a feud with a rival pack. The sudden, alien appearance of the TARDIS had spooked a scout and it had gone to alert the pack. Unaware of this, the three travelers had set out into the woods with torches for light and within minutes they were running from a horde of snarling figures in the dark. They got separated; Martha was taken first, then Rose, and finally the Doctor. They were hauled back to the village and Martha and the Doctor were thrown into their equivalent of prison. Rose, however, was not there. Martha wondered aloud if Rose had fought back and they'd killed her. Then she had to keep the suddenly irate Time Lord from setting fire to the building, salting the earth, and cursing the firstborns.

Two hours later the doors to the jail were opened and in stepped Rose, adorned with jewelry and a wrapped in a fur cloak, completely unharmed. The Doctor had snatched her up into a bone-crushing hug that would have been perceived as a threat by her escorts had she not immediately wrapped her arms around him in response.

"What happened?" he demanded. "I thought you'd…"

She put her hands on his cheeks to sooth him. "It's actually kind of a funny story. You remember the werewolf in Scotland? Down in the cellar, before he transformed, he said I had 'something of the wolf' about me. Well, whatever it is, this lot can sense it too. They believe it means their goddess has blessed me. I'm practically royalty. The Alpha has asked me if I wished to marry his son, and everythin'. Told 'em I had to respectfully decline because I'm already married. We've been invited to dinner with the Alpha's family. I think he wants to apologize."

The Alpha did apologize but then turned right around and scolded them for encroaching on their turf and scaring the poor sentry half to death so soon after a feud. Then he said that since they were aliens that they couldn't be expected to know about such tings. There were requests for them to stay among their pack for a time because, surely, the presence of a goddess-blessed would be beneficial to their lands. Rose could think of no way to decline without seeming heartless but Martha, thinking quickly, said that they had their own families back on their planet that would miss them terribly if they were gone too long. Then she, with a sly look in her direction, suggested that Rose could simply pray to the goddess on their behalf.

Another time the Doctor took them to the planet Isara to visit Lilah, the young elflike girl Rose had befriended the last time they were there. She was five years older than when Rose last saw her (the Doctor insisted he'd landed in that year on purpose) and was an adolescent at this point and was very excited to see Rose.

Rose brought the hot pink casts out so Lilah could see the color again and told her about the new names and why she'd had to wear it the last time. When she thought he wouldn't overhear, Lilah quietly asked if the Doctor and Rose were married yet. (Of course she hadn't known that the Doctor had exceptional hearing and that he'd still be able to hear her even from all the way over there. That got him thinking about Shareen Costello's words again.)

As it turned out, there was a reason the TARDIS had taken them to that date. The people of Isara all had elemental affinities that they called 'magick,' which they came into during puberty. Liliah had already gotten hers—earth—and the swirling patterns across her hands had turned from the white of youth to the green and brown of one gifted with earth magick.

A boy had decided to practice his fire magick without his mentor around, knowing full well that most of those with water magick had gone down into the valley to practice and swim. If it hadn't been for the Doctor's quick thinking and sonic screwdriver, the entire village would've probably been burned to the ground. They stuck around for the cleanup this time. The Doctor drew up plans for a fire hydrant system in case something like this happened again, suggesting they spread the idea to the neighboring communities. Martha used her medical skills to help their healers treat the wounded and was able to give them a few tips while they in turn gave her some knowledge as well. Rose helped dig through the rubble for anything that could be scavenged and helped console those who had all or part of their homes.

They were sent off with many thanks, gifts, and promises that, even if they never returned, they would never be forgotten.

Martha was feeling particularly pleased after that planet. "That was great. I mean I know it's horrible that they got hurt, but getting to help like that. They were so…happy. Every single one of them that I helped thanked me. One older woman, she blessed me with her magick."

"She blessed you?" the Doctor asked interestedly. "What kind of magick could she do?"

"I dunno," Martha said.

"The patterns on her hands, what color were they?"

Martha had to think about it for a second. "Silver."

The Doctor's eyes shot towards his hairline. "Ooooh. Now that is interesting. What did she say?"

"She…she told me that I'd have a long, good life and that I'd meet my love at the darkest time."

The Doctor nodded slowly but she couldn't tell from his expression what he thought about it. She glanced at Rose who shrugged, just as confused as she was. "That's good news, then." The Doctor said at last. "Remember how I told you a few humans are low-level psychics? Well, a handful of Isarans don't develop affinities for any of the natural elements. She must've been one of them if she had silver hands. She wasn't blessing you, she was telling you your future."

"She what?"

"Or, well, she was telling you your most likely future based on the current way our timelines are progressing. You have a lot of potential futures. I can see them around you," he gestured at her vaguely. "I make it a point not to look at my companions' possible futures if I can help it—I don't really want to know, to be quite honest—but I'd bet you anything, if I looked at your most probable future, it'd match up."

Martha curled her mouth and nodded. "Good to know, then. But…what'd she mean by 'darkest time?'"

"Ooh, beats me."

She smiled and started to walk away, but then she stopped abruptly, spinning around. "I nearly forgot! She said one other thing before she left. She looked right at you and said, 'He is not alone.'"

The Doctor raised his eyebrows again. "Those exact words? Nothing more?"

"Nope. …It's like what the Face of Boe said."

"It's exactly what the Face of Boe said," he muttered to himself. "But it _can't_ be. I would _know_…" Running his hand through his hair in agitation, he disappeared into the bowels of the TARDIS. Neither companion followed him.

When they weren't going to other planets or spending their days within the TARDIS, they were hopping through Earth's history.

They went to see the 2008 Olympics and the Doctor had the TARDIS sweep for any ionic energy (just in case), which led to Rose explaining the 2012 Olympics and the Isolus. They stayed for the whole event. Rose dug out her old Union Jack t-shirt and the Doctor refused to don anything with a flag on it, opting instead to wear his blue suit and red chucks. Great Britain ended up being one of the top five countries. Rose commented that, once again, Papua New Guinea went home medal-less.

"What? I never said they would actually _win_ anything," was his defense.

They went to see the first moon landing—once from Earth and once from the moon itself. Though the latter ended rather abruptly when one of the astronauts turned and noticed them peering out from behind a large rock wearing spacesuits and well beyond the TARDIS perception filter. They'd had to leg it down to Earth and inform NASA that, no, they weren't Russians or residents of the moon, and that, yes, he was the Doctor and he was just entertaining his two companions with a bit of Earth history. If they had any issue with that they could contact a certain Brigadier at UNIT. Then, for the hell of it, they jumped ahead to the next landing and did it again.

On a dare from Rose, they went to the year 447 and Martha threw two eggs at Atilla the Hun. She would've thrown three but she only managed to land two before he was up and charging. They went to the year 1129 and they got proper fruit juice, like the Doctor had promised back in the hospital. One time he told Martha to pick eight random numbers between 0 and 9, which he then used as date coordinates. They did that three times.

Some days they didn't leave the Vortex. These days were spent getting to know each other, talking, and wandering the TARDIS. They watched the Doctor tinker and do maintenance and helped when they could. They located the pool and he fixed the heater and when the three of them came back in their swimsuits they found a diving board and a waterslide ready and waiting. They sat in the library for hours and listened raptly as the Doctor read aloud the final Harry Potter book, because Rose insisted that the books were a thousand times better when the Doctor read them.

Martha agreed.

She and Rose liked to roam around the wardrobe and search for interesting clothes. One time the TARDIS rearranged things so all of the Doctor's old outfits were laid out together on a shelf. It took the girls a few minutes to figure out what the odd array of outfits had in common, until Rose realized there were nine of them total, with his old black leather jacket and a burgundy jumper being at the end of the line, and the rest quickly fell into place. Every day for the next nine days, they dropped one piece of his outfits somewhere in the TARDIS that he would find. The first day they hung a frock coat over the back of the chair in the kitchen. Unfortunately they weren't around to witness his discovery of it, though Martha glimpsed him heading into the wardrobe with the coat in hand.

The next day he found Rose in the library, unaware that she'd been waiting for him. "Doctor," she said without looking up from her book, "I think Cruella DeVille is passed out drunk over in the biographies section."

He blinked. "What?"

She turned the page. "Either that or there's a dead bear over there."

Completely baffled, the Doctor went to investigate, and returned with an oversized fur coat in his hands. She looked up from her book and arched her eyebrows. "Not Cruella, then?"

The next day Martha was present to witness his surprise at discovering an opera cape hanging from the diamond coat rack in the library. When the three of them went into the console room the following morning, they saw an absurdly long multi-colored scarf decorating several of the coral struts. Martha's work, since Rose had been curled up against the Doctor's chest all night. The fifth day he found a plate of celery in the kitchen, though when they questioned each other, both girls denied having put it out. By then he was getting suspicious and Rose caught him scouring the wardrobe, but when she checked the place where all his outfits had been recently, she found that all but one of them had been moved, proving that the TARDIS was, in fact, in on the joke.

The sixth day they put a colorful coat that he must've stolen from the circus on the pilot's chair. The seventh day they hung a black umbrella with a red question mark handle from the chandelier near the door to the garden. The eighth day Martha randomly dropped the long green velvet jacket in the hallway and hoped the TARDIS would switch hallways up so he'd find it. The ninth day, Rose walked around wearing his leather jacket until he finally noticed her, and stared.

"What?" she asked innocently and left the room. She wore it for the rest of the day and at dinner, Martha showed up with a panama hat on her head.

"Something the matter, Doctor?" she asked when he gawked at them.

"B-but—but how did you…I thought it was the TARDIS!"

Rose arched one eyebrow. "Did you really run around in an opera cape?"

More than once Martha would come across the Doctor and Rose, take one look at them, and turned right around and leave. They weren't ever up to anything; just cuddling on the couch in the library or sitting together in the kitchen, laughing and talking. They just looked so _right_ together and she didn't want to spoil it. Other times she stood there, watching them and waiting to be noticed. It was those times where she realized how much they loved each other, even if they never said. It was in everything they did: in their eyes whenever they met, in their hugs, in the way their fingers curled together, whenever they kissed (platonically and not-so-platonically, though the latter occurred far less often), and sometimes heard between sentences, hidden behind other words.

Whenever she saw them together, she couldn't deny that she felt a bit envious of the pair. Okay, more than a little bit. Though what were the chances any man would ever look at her the way the Doctor looked at Rose? He may have very well single-handedly ruined every man for her, because after seeing the two of them, how could she not compare everything any man would do or give her to what she'd seen the Doctor do for Rose, or what the Doctor had done for her?

A bouquet of flowers: the Doctor took them to a planet with endless rolling hills with valleys of flowers and tall grass that tickled their skin.

Chocolate: nothing on Earth could compare to the chocolate they'd had on one of the Dancing Moons in 11349.

A date to the movies: they'd met Shakespeare and went to a holo-film theater. (The only exception would probably be if they went on a date to see Terminator 4, which the Doctor still refused to take them to.)

Dinner at a fancy restaurant: they went to a masquerade on a planet where she was treated like royalty for having dark skin, hair, and eyes. (The Doctor did that solely for her, since Rose—with her light hair and skin—was about as low as a servant. Though neither of them seemed too bothered by the fact that no one asked Rose to dance and they were able to spend the entire evening in each other's company. …Yeah, better add that to the list of things as well.)

A holiday somewhere nice: she went on holidays almost every day with these two! Actually, her whole life them was one big holiday when she thought about it.

A stable life, a house, and kids: the Doctor gave her all of time and space.

It was enough to make her bang her head against the coral strut in her room in frustration. Several times.

Some days Martha thought of her family repeatedly. She wondered how they were doing without her—how much time for them had passed or would pass until they landed back in her flat for a visit. And the Doctor promised they could visit whenever she wanted to. She didn't. Not yet.

She wanted to live this life for a little longer because going back would mean going back to finish medical school, because she would've only had a few days off if she hadn't gone with them. Going back would also mean facing her mother and having to hear her go on about the Doctor and Rose and them being dangerous. (But she was dangerous too now, wasn't she?) Going back would mean getting sucked back into her family's drama. Going back would mean staying back, even if it were only for a while.

And when she was done with med school she would return to the TARDIS to travel—but that meant she'd either have to come up with an excuse to be absent for extended periods of time (repeatedly if she ever planned to visit)…or tell her family the truth. Neither option seemed pleasant.

Some days she didn't think about her family at all. At first when she'd realize, she'd feel bad about it for a while afterwards. For all their faults, they were still her _family_. But gradually she became less bothered. Everyone on the TARDIS was running from something. Hell, even the TARDIS herself was probably running from something. Martha was no different.

"I want to visit New York City," Martha said one morning after breakfast when they were in the console room.

"To see Cheen and Milo's baby?" Rose asked.

"No, I want to go to New York City. The original one in America. Always wanted to go."

"Blimey, why didn't I ever think of that?" she smacked her forehead. "Can we go?"

"Sure, why not." The Doctor smiled at them and moved to set their coordinates. "We've been mucking around in the past for the past few weeks so how does 2130 sound? The future, but near enough to your present time that things won't be too different…and they had an excellent run of _The Lion King_ that year. Wouldn't mind swinging by Broadway, would you?"

"Of course not!" Martha laughed.

"Well then, hang on!"

No sooner had the words left his mouth than the TARDIS gave a shuddering lurch around them. After nine weeks and multiple instances where she'd banged her head on something, Martha had gotten the hang of it. With the railing out of reach, she braced herself for impact with the grating, bending her knees and throwing her hands out in front to catch herself. It worked and she was spared a concussion. She didn't even bother to rise knowing damn well she'd probably just get knocked right back down. When the TARDIS landed, she looked up at the Doctor with a frown.

"Well, here we are then!" he said cheerfully.

"You're a menace," she growled. "I'm surprised no one's come to impound the TARDIS and take your license."

"Martha Jones, do you honestly think anyone would be able to _impound_ my ship?" he scoffed.

"Yes," Rose said seriously. "An' then you'd talk their ears off and they'd give her back just to shut you up."

"Oi!" he protested, moving to help Martha up. Rose smiled sweetly at him and bounded over to the doors.

The Doctor grabbed his coat from off a coral strut and followed his companions out the door. Almost immediately after stepping out he was greeted by a blast of cool, salty Atlantic air and Rose Tyler's scowl.

"2130, eh?"

"Yeah, what do—" he looked over her head at the landscape of New York City and the words died in his throat. "Ah. So I must've gotten the flight a bit wrong. Could happen to anyone."

Rose decided to just let it go. At least they'd managed to land in New York City. She could see the Empire State Building in the distance, still under construction for the looks of it. That would make it the 20th century, then. She'd guessed it was before her time from the old-style ships sailing across the water, anyway.

"Martha, Rose, have you met my friend?" the Doctor asked conversationally and pointed upwards. They turned their heads skyward and saw a famous green statue towering above them.

Martha laughed. "Is that—? Oh my God! That's the Statue of Liberty!"

"Gateway to the New World," the Doctor said. "'Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free.'"

"This is brilliant," she murmured.

"At least we're actually in New York." Rose said cheerfully. "Although, I do think we might stand out a bit." She glanced down at her jeans, trainers, light blue shirt, and gray jacket. Martha was no better in her own jeans, trainers, black tank, and red leather jacket.

"Nah, don't worry. This is New York!" the Doctor crowed. "You could be one of the Catkind and fit in around here. You could be Catkind and not be the strangest thing seen around here, actually."

"Yeah, not when there's a Time Lord prancing about." Martha muttered to Rose.

"I love this city," he went on as they started towards the pier. "So good they named it twice. Mind you, it was New Amsterdam originally. Harder to say twice. Now wonder it didn't catch on. New Amsterdam, New Amsterdam."

"So, obviously we're not in 2130—what year is it?"

"Well," he nodded in the direction of the city. "There's the Empire State, still a work in progress. Looks like they've got a couple more floors to go. Which makes the date somewhere around—"

"1930?" Rose guessed. "That's two hundred years off where were supposed to land. Same difference, right?"

"She's right," Martha said from behind them. She was looking down at a newspaper someone had left on a bench. She walked over to them and held up the paper for them to see. "November 1st, 1930," she read and allowed the Doctor to pull it from her fingers. "That's nearly eighty years ago. It's funny 'cause you see all those old newsreels in black and white like it's so far away, but here we are. It's real. It's now. I'm never going to get used to this, I swear. I don't know how you have, Rose."

"Who says I have?"

Martha laughed. "Right, come on you two. Where to first?"

"Central Park," the Doctor said grimly and showed them the headline.

"'Hooverville Mystery Deepens.'" Rose read aloud.

"What's Hooverville?" Martha asked.

"C'mon," the Doctor said, rolling up the newspaper and stuffing it into his pocket. "Let's go see if we can't catch a ferry across the water."

"Hang on!" Rose said, spinning back around, and dashed into the TARDIS. The Doctor and Martha glanced at each other. The Doctor shrugged. She re-emerged a minute or so later (actually it was two minutes and three-point-two-seven seconds, according to the Doctor. Not that he was counting the seconds he couldn't see her. Not at all) with a pair of brown fuzzy-knit fingerless gloves on her hands and a pair for Martha. "Okay, now we can go."

Getting across the water was the easy part. A boat was leaving in five minutes to Manhattan and a quick flash of the psychic paper was enough to get them on board. After receiving several scandalous looks, Rose and Martha mutually decided to move away from the crowds and the Doctor followed. It was one of those times, as the three of them leaned against the starboard railing, that they were all silent. The Doctor was staring ahead at the city, completely engrossed in his thoughts and Martha was looking back at the Statue of Liberty.

Rose was leaning over the side, watching the water. They were at the mouth of the Hudson, the water from the river fed out into the bay. She'd always heard that the river was as bad as the River Thames so she figured the bay wouldn't look much better. But the water wasn't so bad, not in this time anyway, and she could see little fish swimming around below the surface. And was that someone's hat? She blinked, leaning further to get a better look, but she almost immediately felt a pair of hands on her waist, pulling her firmly back onto the right side of the railing.

"Careful, I don't want to have to fish you out of the river," the Doctor said.

She frowned indignantly. "I wasn't gonna fall. I'm not a little kid, Doctor."

"No, but you're very jeopardy-friendly, and you were halfway over before I pulled you back."

"I thought I saw a hat. I wanted to check." She said and realized that even though she had two feet safely on the boat deck, the Doctor's hands had yet to leave her waist.

"Just be careful, please," he said.

Martha smiled, her lips pressed together, and slowly eased away from them. After nine weeks on board she'd also learned to make a quick and unnoticeable escape whenever one of these moments occurred. Not that it had made a difference yet because unless they were already secretly shagging, then absolutely nothing was going on either side of the doors in the TARDIS. Or in the console room, for that matter.

Yet another thing that made her bang her head against the wall in frustration and she was beginning to wish she was closer to the TARDIS so the two of them could arrange for the Doctor and Rose to get locked in a cupboard for a few hours. The sexual tension was driving her up the walls.

Still, she liked to give them space just in case.

Of course, the Doctor noticed the location of his hands a few seconds later and dropped them quickly, clearing his throat, and turned towards the city. "So, ah, we're heading to Central Park. It's about a two-hour walk from Battery Park where we're docking so we'll be catching a cab."

"We need money for that." Martha reminded him, leaning against the railing. "And this is the '30s. No money movers to be sonic-ed."

The Doctor frowned and dug around through his pockets. "Hang on, I've been in this era of America before. Might have enough somewhere…"

"You've got an entire thrift store in those pockets, don't you?"

He paused his search and pulled a yo-yo and a cassette tape out of his left pocket, arching his eyebrow at her, and then dropped them back in and continued rummaging around. It took most of the rest of the ride across but he had located about twenty dollars worth of bills and change in his pocket by the time they'd docked. Some of it was a bit out-dated, but he said the cabbie wouldn't be likely to notice.

They caught a cab outside of the park—a rickety thing compared to a modern cab, with a red body, black roof, and a very long engine in the front—and the driver agreed to take them up to the park.

"Look a bit too nice, an' you can afford to fair, so you ain't fallen on your ass yet? So you got family up there in the shanty?" the driver asked in a thick New York accent.

"No," the Doctor said. "We're just sightseeing. We're not from around here."

"Well no kiddin'!" the man crowed. "I knew the moment you got in the car! Twenty years I been drivin' cabs! Twenty years! I got an eye for it! I can tell where people come from within the first few seconds! Accent usually helps, but you don't look local, neither. Is that what girls are wearin' in London these days?"

"No," Rose said. "We're just rebels, that's all."

The man guffawed. "Well, alright! I guess it don't matter what people wear right now. Long as it's warm. Most folk ain't got the time or the money to be picky about anything. If you wanna dress like a man then, by all means ladies, g'head."

It took about half an hour to get up to Central Park. After the cabbie pulled up to the sidewalk and put the car in park, he turned in his seat. He seemed to be sizing them up and contemplating something. "You seem like nice folks. Best keep them close to your side, y'hear? I dunno if you heard yet, but people's been goin' missin' from around here lately. Dunno who, what, or why, but it's happenin' and ain't no one in power doin' nothin' about it."

The Doctor smiled and handed him the fare, plus a tip. "We will, and thank you. Good luck."

"You too."

The Doctor got out of the car and held the door open for his companions. They crossed the street and headed into the park. He asked a passing man on a bike if he knew where Hooverville was. They were pointed in the right direction and they set off.

"So, what's Hooverville?" Martha asked.

"Do you know who the current president is?" the Doctor asked.

"No."

"Herbert Hoover, 31st President of the USA, came to power a year ago." he said in what Martha had come to think of as his 'teacher voice.' Because whenever he used it he was either being the universe's best tour guide or lecturing them on some topic. "Up till then New York was a boom town, the Roaring Twenties, and then…"

"The Wall Street Crash, yeah, when was that, 1929?"

"Yeah. Whole economy wiped out overnight. Thousands of people unemployed. Suddenly the huddled masses doubled in number with nowhere to go. So they ended up here in Central Park."

"What? They actually live in the park? In the middle of the city?"

"It's not so odd," Rose said tightly. "You'd be surprised the kind of places people go when they've got nowhere else. Mum used to never let me go play in the park on the estate after sundown because people liked to sleep under the slide."

"But that's horrible!"

"Wouldn't be surprised if several dozen people sleep in Hyde Park every night in our time. I considered it, once."

"Why?" the Doctor asked sharply.

Rose shrugged. "It was just after I'd left Jimmy. Didn't feel like facin' Mum yet. Couldn't, really. I was on my way down there then I changed my mind and decided to sleep at Shareen's for a bit. Figured it'd be safer."

"Rose, you—"

"Leave it. S'over an' done with, Doctor."

The smelled Hooverville before they saw it. The smoke from the fires, food cooking, trash, and poorly washed bodies, all mixed together to form a smell that wasn't unfamiliar to Rose after growing up where she had and travelling the universe. Then they saw the smoke over the treetops and then the first homes of the shantytown came into view. Dozens and dozens of poorly made buildings, some of them—the lucky ones—were made of wood and stone, and the rest were made from sheets of metal, rubber, cardboard, tires, and other materials people had found to work with. Some of them were just tents.

Three long planks held up on two wooden poles with the word "Hooverville" painted in white designated the main entrance. The three travellers felt solemn as they passed beneath it. Garments hung from lines, people gathered around fires in barrels, one man passed them pushing a bike. Some of the "houses" had chairs or tables in front of them, there were a few portable stoves. Rose spotted a small American flag fastened to one of the poles holding up a tent house. There was a signpost ahead of them with wooden slabs pointing every which way with street names and places like _42__nd__ Street_ and _Brooklyn_. Maybe someone was trying to be funny. Or maybe they needed something like that to make them feel at least somewhat at home.

People watched them come. Acknowledged their arrival with stares or nods; took in their nice, if unconventional clothes. Some only spared them a passing glance, not recognizing them but figuring they were just three more people out on the streets needing a place.

"Ordinary people," the Doctor explained quietly, toning down his usual tour guide routine in order to avoid offending the people. On top of everything else they didn't need to feel like creatures in the zoo that would be opened in another area of the park soon. "Lost their jobs. Couldn't pay the rent and they lost everything."

They passed the tent of a barber, designated by spiraling red and white pipe set on the top of one of the support poles. A man was sitting on a barrel in front getting his hair trimmed. They watched the travelers go past.

"There are places like this all over America. No one's helping them."

Rose huddled her arms close to her chest, feeling out of place. For all the troubles she had growing up, she'd had it good compared to these people. That girl over there in the rocking chair, she looked about twenty, she might've had a mother and a father here or somewhere, but the only roof over her head was a tarp. The only clothes she had were the ones on her back or hanging from the clothesline. Sometimes the power went out on the Estate or the heater was faulty. That girl didn't have any power or a heater. Just that fire and some blankets.

She glanced at Martha who also was looking uncomfortable, her arms folded as well.

"You only come to Hooverville when there's nowhere else to go." he told them quietly and they believed him.

"YOU THIEVING LOWLIFE!"

Ahead of them a scuffle was beginning. A black man, the one who'd shouted, knocked a white man to the ground. The black man yelled angrily at him about waiting for bread, swiping at him and kicking while two other men tried to hold him back. The white man got to his feet, claiming innocence, and the black man slugged him. From what she could hear, it seemed to Rose that they were fighting over a loaf of bread. That's how desperate they were.

A middle-aged black man wearing a beige captain's coat emerged from a green tent, took in the ruckus before him, and strode towards them with purpose, placing a brown hat on top of his head. "Cut that out!" he shouted. "CUT IT OUT!" he bellowed when they continued to fight. He grabbed both the fighting men and shoved them apart. "Right now!"

"He stole my bread!" the younger man shouted, pointing accusingly.

"That's enough!" the older man snapped then turned to the white man. "Did you take it?"

"I don't know what happened he just went crazy!" the white man answered. The younger black man lunged at him and the older one had to force them apart again. He turned to the white man once more. "Now, think real careful before you lie to me."

"I'm starving, Solomon." the white man said after a moment.

The man, Solomon, held out his hand expectantly and the white man hesitated for a moment, then lifted the side of his coat and pulled out a single loaf of bread. The crowd that had gathered groaned and grumbled at the sight. "We're all starvin'. We all got family somewhere." Solomon said and he broke the bread in half, handing one to each of them. "No stealing and no fighting. You know the rules."

He turned to address the crowd standing around him. "Thirteen years ago I fought in the Great War. A lot of us did. And the only reason we got through was because we stuck together! No matter how bad things get, we still act like human beings. It's all we got."

He looked between the two of them pointedly and they walked their separate ways. The crowd of people went on about their business now that the brief entertainment was over and the Doctor quietly told Martha and Rose to follow him.

"I suppose that makes you the boss around here," the Doctor said.

Solomon looked at them as he walked towards a fire pit. "And, uh, who might you be?"

"He's the Doctor. She's Rose. I'm Martha."

"A Doctor? Ha. Well…we got stockbrokers—" he nodded to a man sleeping in a chair, "—we've got a lawyer—" a man rubbing his hands as he walked towards a fire barrel "—but you're the first doctor. Neighbourhood gets classier by the day." He held out his hands to warm them over the fire.

"How many people live here?" Martha asked after a moment.

"Any one time, hundreds. No place else to go. But I will say this about Hooverville: we're a truly equal society. Black, white—all the same. All starving." he chuckled once. "So you're welcome, all of you. But tell me, Doctor you're a man of learning, right? Explain this to me."

They followed Solomon around a tent and looked over the treetops at the empire state building. "That there is going to be tallest building in the world. How come they can do that and we got people starving in the heart of Manhattan?"

The Doctor had no answer, not one that would satisfy him anyway.

"Because it's easier," Rose said. "Because building somethin' like that is easier than coming up with a solution. Because it puts eyes on your city—but high above everythin'. Everyone's lookin' at how beautiful it is up there so they don't see how awful it is down here. An' the rich people, the politicians, they think that since they're given some men jobs workin' that it's enough. Since some got work all must be happy. That's what I think, anyway."

Solomon turned all the way and considered her with something close to a smile on his face. "You're a smart young lady. I think you might be right. Now answer me this: if that's the answer, then why doesn't it make anything better?"

"B-Because…" She had to think about it but in the end all she could come up with was: "Because nothin' can. Not yet."

Solomon nodded but she couldn't tell whether or not he was satisfied with her answer. He simply turned and strode back over to his tent.

"That was good," the Doctor told her quietly. "Some people will spend the whole Depression asking themselves those questions and in the end they'll be no more satisfied with their answers than with yours."

"We should give them our money." Martha said. "You've got ten dollars left, at least. We can walk back to Battery Park, it won't kill us."

"And who would we give it to? Hmm?" Those hungry men? Solomon? That woman over there with children? Or that man with no leg? Who do you think deserves it more, Martha?"

"W-we could divide it up…"

"And we'd probably cause a fuss. People would want to know why they didn't get any. It won't save them. Won't even last long enough to make a difference. You've seen worse than this before, Martha."

"I know but…but they…I mean they're…"

"Human?" the Doctor looked down at her. "So because they're human it makes their suffering worse? It doesn't. I know you feel extra sympathy towards them because they're your species, but in the end the universe is always going to be full of people hungry and homeless, and their species doesn't make their suffering any lesser or greater than the others suffering. If you've been with us this long already and haven't figured it out yet that one's species alone doesn't determine their importance, then why should I let you stay?"

Martha looked away, humbled from his chastisement, and rubbed her arms against the chill from both the ice in his voice and the cold wind.

The Doctor strode towards Solomon, pulling the newspaper out of his pocket. "So…" he said to get his attention. Solomon turned. "Men gone missing—is this true?"

Solomon's eyes flicked down to the newspaper and he took it from the Doctor's hands. "It's true, alright." He motioned with his head for them to follow him into his tent.

The Doctor didn't go beyond the doorway though and Rose and Martha had to peer in through the open flap. It was oddly quaint, with a table, two chairs, a bed, a drawer, a stove, and lanterns hanging from the poles or resting on the table. It was warm, too.

"But what does missing mean? Men must come and go here all the time. It's not like anyone's keeping a register."

Solomon sat down in the chair, removing his hat. "Come on in," he invited.

The Doctor sat down in the chair next to Solomon, resting his chin in his hand. Rose and Martha perched on the drawer, right near the delicious warmth from the stove.

"This is different," Solomon said.

Rose frowned. "What do you mean 'different'? Missin's missin', isn't it?"

"Not in this case. Something's taking them. At night. We hear something. Someone calls out for help. By the time we get there, they're gone. Like they vanish into thin air."

"And you're sure someone's taking them?" the Doctor asked.

"Doctor, when you got next to nothing, you hold on to the little you got." Solomon said as if to a child. "Knife, blanket—you take it with you. You don't leave bread uneaten, fire still burning."

"Have you been to the police?" Martha inquired.

"Yeah, we tried that. Another deadbeat goes missing, big deal."

"So," the Doctor said, rubbing his ear thoughtfully, "the question is, who's taking them and what for?"

"Solomon!" a voice called from outside the tent. A young boy, about sixteen with a cap on his head and a southern accent, burst into the tent. "Solomon! Mr. Diagoras is here."

Solomon's eyes widened. He grabbed his hat and headed out with the three time travelers following close behind.

A man in a black, red-trimmed coat that probably cost enough to feed the entirety of Hooverville for at least a day, stood on a crate with two tough-looking guys in black pinstripe suits—bodyguards—and was speaking to the crowd gathering.

"I need men, volunteers. I've got a little work for you, and you sure look like you could use the money."

"Yeah, what is the money!" the southern boy called out.

"A dollar a day."

People scoffed and laughed mockingly. Even for the times, a dollar was ridiculous.

"What's the work?" Solomon asked and people seemed to relax when he brought attention to himself. Even if he wasn't officially in charge, Solomon had power amongst the people. They looked up to him, respected him. _Solomon is here. Solomon will look out for us._

"A little trip down the sewers." Diagoras said and people laughed, scoffed, and shook their heads. "Got a tunnel that collapsed needs clearing and fixing. Any takers?"

"Uh-uh." The southern boy shook his head. He seemed to speak for all of them.

"A dollar a day is a slave wage." Solomon objected loudly. People chimed in their agreement. "Men don't always come back up, do they?"

"Accidents happen," Diagoras dismissed.

"What do you mean?" the Doctor asked. "What sort of 'accidents'?"

"You don't need the work? That's fine. Anybody else?"

The Doctor raised his hand.

"Enough with the questions!"

"Oh, no, no, no, no. I'm volunteering. I'll go."

Knowing full well she couldn't stay in Hooverville while the Doctor went gallivanting around down in the sewers, Martha lifted her hand. "I'll kill you for this."

"I'll help her," Rose added with her hand in the air as well.

The Doctor chuckled.

"Anybody else?" Diagoras called. Solomon and the southern boy raised their hands as well.

* * *

**Frank ^-^ *headpat* **

**Do you guys even realize how much fun I'm having writing this story?! It's one of the highlights of my life right now. Leave me a review on the way out! Oh, and to my guest reviewers, I can't reply to your questions unless you have an account!**


	19. Trap

**Hey guys. I made a trailer for my final project in one of my courses. It's on my youtube channel (link on my profile). You should check it out.**

* * *

Rose Tyler prided herself on being a patient, restrained woman. She'd always been—had to be, what with Jackie bringing a myriad of men home over the years and a hair salon being run in the kitchen half the time. But she'd gained heaps of both since she joined the Doctor in the TARDIS years ago.

Of course she had! She traipsed across the universe with a madman in a blue box that was bigger on the inside, for goodness sakes. Putting up with the Doctor alone required a lot of both. In this body, at least, he was rude (and not ginger), crass, annoying sometimes, with an unstoppable gob, and a penchant for ambling off to another topic whenever they got close to anything regarding their relationship.

And that wasn't even counting the tolerance required to put up with the things that had happened during their travels. She'd been kidnapped, held hostage, cussed out in dozens of dialects, thrown in jail, set to be sacrificed, accused of witchery (many times), almost eaten (nearly as many times), and danged over multiple pits filled with multiple things that would hurt and/or kill her (with the exception of that one time she was dangled over a pit of cotton candy, but they didn't talk about that one).

She'd been forced to put up with things that were disgusting to avoid offending the aliens they were around at the time. She'd been kissed (or the species equivalent thereof), blatantly groped, flirted with more times than she cared to count, mistaken for a whore, and almost forcibly married several dozen times. Once she'd even gotten up to the altar before her Time Lord _finally _got around to saving her.

She'd been in horrible places that she never wished to revisit. Almost every jail/dungeon she's ever been thrown in (except for the one made of candy canes but they don't talk about that one either), all but two of the prominently swamp planets (especially the one Degobah from _Star Wars _was based off of), the jungles of Torro where one in every three vines was carnivorous, Ancient Japan, Krop Tor, Justica, and the colony planet where it'd been a crime to tell stories, hope, and dream. Just to name a few.

After all that, though, after all the dozens of horrible places she's been, the horrible things she's had to endure…Rose has never gotten used to walking through sewers and she doesn't think she ever will. She also had no desire to ever be in enough sewers _to_ get used to them, thank you very much.

As she followed Solomon, the southern boy named Frank, and Martha into the sewer tunnels, Rose Tyler was using every ounce of self-control she had to not cuss and fuss. It was wet and dark and it stank and she would've rather stayed in Hooverville than come down here.

"Just got to stick together," Frank told them. "It's easy to get lost. It's like a huge rabbit warren. Could hide an army down here."

"You talk like you roam the sewers every other day." Rose said, resisting the urge to plug her nose. Her lips were curled in disgust, though.

"I've had my fair share," he admitted. Grinning, he looked at her. "And yourself?"

"More than you."

Frank laughed. "Is that so?"

"Bet you ten quid."

"Alright. How many?"

"Doctor," she called over shoulder. "About how many sewers do you think we've been in since we started out?"

His reply came a moment later, "Seventy or so—depends on your definition of sewer, really."

Frank's jaw dropped. "W-well, alright then!" he laughed after a second. "I guess you win that one. But, uh, what's a 'quid'?"

Rose blinked as the Doctor caught up to them and fell instep beside her. "Um…a dollar."

"Well, uh, I'd pay up, but I haven't even got ten cents."

She laughed at him, her tongue between her teeth. "It's alright. Didn't expect you to pay up anyway. If it makes you feel any better, he owes me about a hundred quid by now." She turned the beam of her torch towards the Doctor.

"A smart man pays off his debts," Solomon told him sagely.

"A smart man doesn't make a bet with Rose Tyler," the Doctor countered. Solomon chuckled. "She always wins. Even if she ticks off a queen in the process."

Frank's eyes nearly bugged out of his head. "You've met a queen?"

"We've met a lot of people," he said smoothly. "We travel."

"So, what about you, Frank?" Martha asked. "You're not from around these parts, are you?"

He laughed. "Oh, _you _can talk. No, I'm Tennessee born an' bred."

"So how come you're here?"

"Oh, my daddy died. Mama…couldn't afford to feed us all. So I'm the oldest, up to me to feed myself. So I put on my coat, hitched up here on the railroads. There's a whole lot of runaways in camp younger than me. From all over; Missouri, Oklahoma, Texas… Solomon—he keeps a lookout for us. So, what about you? You're a _long_ way from home."

Martha smiled. "I'm with them. We're travellers, like he said. I worked at a hospital back in London, and one day things went mad. These two were there, I helped them sort it, and they invited me along. We've been all over but never to New York before. I've always wanted to see it."

"Well, you stick with me, you'll be alright."

Rose wished she could catch Martha's eye right now because she'd told her—she'd _told _her she'd be getting all sorts of flirting in time. If she hadn't believed Rose back then, she definitely did now.

"So this Diagoras bloke, who is he then?" the Doctor asked Solomon.

Solomon sighed. "A couple of months ago, he was just another foreman. Now it seems like he's running most of Manhattan."

"How did he manage that, then?"

"These are strange times. A man can go from being King of the Hill to the lowest of the low overnight."

The Doctor noticed something on the ground in front of them and lowered the beam of his torch downwards. Rose followed it and she squinted, trying to make out what that lump on the floor was.

"It's just for some folks it works the other way 'round." Solomon finished.

It was bumpy and glowing green in the torchlight and whatever it was it wasn't human. "Whoa!" the Doctor exclaimed. Their party halted.

Martha gasped, peering down at it. "Is it radioactive or something?"

Solomon and Frank kept back while the three of them knelt down around it. A completely revolting smell wafted up from the goopy thing, smacking Rose in the face a thousand times harder than the sewer odor had. She stopped breathing, placing her gloved hand firmly over her nose and mouth and worked to stop her stomach from rebelling.

Across from her, Martha gagged. "It's gone off, whatever it is."

The Doctor pulled out his glasses and put them on then cautiously pulled the thing off the ground. The green glow died as he lifted it out of the light filtering in from above.

"And you've _got_ to pick it up."

"Doctor," Rose lowered her hand from her mouth so he would hear her clearly. "I swear to God…if you _lick_ that thing—"

"Oh don't worry, I'm not going to lick it. Honestly."

But he did lift it right to his nose and sniff. Martha's hand flew to her mouth again and Rose closed her eyes. The Doctor was _not_ touching that thing. He wasn't.

Judging from the squishy sounds she heard, he was turning it over in his hands. She peeked one eye open for confirmation. Yep. There was no way he was holding her hand, even through her gloves, until he washed his several times.

"Composite organic matter," he murmured. "Martha, medical opinion?"

She lowered her hand. "It's not human. I know that."

"No, it's not. Rose?"

"No bloody idea. Not something I've seen before." And he was still running his fingers across it! She shuddered.

"Nor me. And I'll tell you something else." He said suddenly, standing up. We must be at least half a mile in. I don't see any signs of a collapse. Do you? So why did Mr. Diagoras send us down here?"

"Where are we now?" Martha asked. "What's up above?"

"Well, we're right underneath Manhattan."

"Let's keep moving," Solomon said, pulling his coat tighter around himself. He took the lead this time with Frank right on his heels with Martha.

The Doctor pocketed the _thing_ and shook his hands off. Rose leaped out of the way with a startled sound of disgust. He grinned and held his hand out to her, fingers wiggling invitingly. She wrinkled her nose, lifted her chin airily, and stomped right past him.

"So, uh, do you see that kind of stuff often in the sewers?" Frank asked the girls.

"No," Rose said at once. "Nothing like that. Except that one time, but it turned out to be a piece of fruit."

"Hush up," Solomon ordered. "Your voice can travel for miles down here. I don't want whatever left that thing behind to find us. Let's just find that collapse and get the heck outta here."

The younger members of the group fell silent. Rose fell instep beside the Doctor as the continued on, but she still refused to hold his hand. Martha walked beside Frank, who seemed to have taken a shine to her, and Solomon led them. They continued through the tunnels, rounding corners, hopping over puddles, and keeping an eye on the ground in case they found another like the disgusting thing currently in the Doctor's pocket. Solomon sped up.

Rose was beginning to get nervous. Just how far had they come? Were they lost? What was going on down here? Could they get back? Of course they could. The Doctor with his superior brain had probably noted and logged every single turn they'd taken. He could guide them back to the entrance just as easily as she could if there were bright neon signs pointing the way. She slid her arm around his (she was _not _going to hold his hand, dammit) and leaned into his side. It felt colder and was it just her, or had the smell gotten worse?

_I want to go back_. And she would say it out loud if she were any less than the woman she was.

"We're way beyond half a mile." Solomon growled. "There's no collapse, nothing."

"That Diagoras bloke, was he lying?" Martha wondered.

"Looks like it," the Doctor said grimly.

Frank looked from tunnel to tunnel. "So why did he want people to come down here?"

"Solomon, I think it's time you took these three back. I'll be much quicker on my own."

"Oh, don't you even think about—" Rose started to say but she stopped abruptly when a squealing sound echoed through the tunnels. It seemed to come from every tunnel all at once. Their heads whipped around.

"What the hell was that?" Solomon asked no one in particular. No one answered him.

"HELLO?" Frank shouted.

"Frank!"

"Shhh!"

"Shhhhhh!"

"What if it's one of the folk gone missing?" he snapped back quietly. "You'd be scared half mad, down here on your own."

"You think they're still alive?" the Doctor asked.

"Heck, we—we ain't seen no bodies down here. Maybe they just got lost."

Another squealing echoed through the tunnels, rebounding off the walls and getting muffled in the water, magnifying and muting and making it impossible to tell where it came from.

"I ain't never heard nobody make a sound like that." Solomon said.

"That's not human," Martha whispered to Rose. She shook her head.

"Where's it comin' from?" Frank asked.

The Doctor edged down a different tunnel, shining his torch along the walls. Rose protested quietly but fell silent when the squealing started up again.

"Sounds like there's more than one of 'em."

"This way," the Doctor ordered.

"No, that way." Solomon said as the noise came again.

Neither of them were right, as it turned out, because when Martha turned the light of her torch down a tunnel she noticed something huddling at the end. It was wearing a jumpsuit—red, by the look of it—and it appeared to be a…

No, impossible.

"Doctor," she hissed.

The others turned, shinning their lights on the thing huddled at the end. Frank and Solomon didn't seem too bothered, obviously couldn't see something horribly wrong with it. Rose did, she could tell from the way her nostrils flared and her eyes widened the tiniest bit.

"Who are you?" Solomon asked. The thing slowly lifted its head.

"Are you lost?" Frank asked. "Can you understand me?" He took a cautious step forward, then another. "I've been thinkin' about folk lost down—"

"It's alright, Frank," the Doctor said, holding his hand up to stop him. "Just stay back. Let me have a look."

The Doctor took a step forward, speaking to the figure down the tunnel. "He's got a point, though, my mate Frank. I'd hate to be stuck down here all on my own." The thing squealed, almost as if in agreement, and he kept walking. "We know the way out. Daylight, if you come with us."

He knelt down in front of the creature, shining the torch directly at its face. Martha had seen right: it was a pig, a humanoid pig.

"Oh, but what are you?" the Doctor queried.

"Is that, uh…some kind of carnival mask?" Solomon asked.

"No, it's real." The Doctor looked at him gravely then turned back to the pig and murmured words that didn't quite reach their ears.

Rose stiffened when she saw the shadows moving on the wall. Then figures appeared around the corner, moving slowly towards the Doctor and the creature on the floor. More pig men. "Doctor!" she called. "Behind you!"

The Doctor turned and saw them coming. He looked once more at the pig man on the ground as he rose to his feet and backed away slowly. The horde followed, including the one that had been on the ground. The bait in a trap Mr. Diagoras had delivered them into. Now they knew why people didn't always come back up.

They continued to slowly retreat and the pig men advanced at the same pace. It was simply a matter of who would bolt first.

"Right, then. Martha, Rose, Frank, Solomon."

"What?" Martha whimpered.

"I think, um…basically…"

"Run?" Rose asked.

"RUN!" he agreed and they did just that. The pigs brayed loudly and charged.

They ran without direction, taking turns at random. Solomon and Frank, even with their longer legs, couldn't quite pace Rose and Martha though they sure as hell tried. The guys may have been used to living it rough, but this was how the girls lived. Running for their lives was as ordinary as drinking tea. Legs and arms pumping, sucking quick breaths of air in, they practically flew through the tunnel. They cast quick glances over their shoulder at the pigs that pursued them relentlessly, squealing horribly all the while.

Martha skidded to a halt in an intersection, Rose stopping just a few feet in front of her. "Where are we going?!" she cried.

"This way!" the Doctor shouted and led them down the right tunnel. Rose didn't care when he grabbed her hand—she just held tighter.

The pigs followed, snorting and squealing. Rose decided that if never saw another pig again it would be too soon and when she got back to the TARDIS she would have pork chops for dinner. _Good plan, not helping_, she thought furiously.

The Doctor changed direction midstride, and her momentum kept Rose moving, but he didn't let go of her hand and very nearly yanked her arm out of it's socket. He pushed off the wall with a grunt and pulled her down an adjacent tunnel. "There's a ladder! Come on!" he shouted.

He let go of her hand, sliding the torch onto his arm, and pulled the sonic screwdriver from his pocket. He climbed up the ladder, switching the sonic on, and worked on unsealing the manhole above them. Rose's torch didn't have a loop so she discarded it and climbed after him. The manhole lid came loose and he pushed it up and out of the way. He pulled himself out then turned around and grabbed Rose's hand. She jumped down from the block and stumbled forward, hands reaching out automatically to catch herself and she hit a wall.

Okay, not outside then.

From below, she heard Solomon shout, "Frank!"

She turned around in time to catch Martha who was shaking like a leaf and close to tears. Martha was more resilient to things than she had been when she'd joined them two months ago, but everyone had their limits.

Solomon emerged from the manhole and then called down to Frank.

The squealing picked up again, louder and more vicious than before as the pigs realized their prey was escaping.

The Doctor and Solomon reached down to him, urging him to hurry. Rose couldn't see what was going on below but she heard the squealing and Frank screaming and Solomon and the Doctor shouting and Martha was crying. She hugged Martha tightly and squeezed her eyes shut.

Her eyes flew open at the Doctor's long, desperate scream of "NO!"

Solomon pulled the Doctor out of the manhole and threw him to the ground, reaching up to pull the iron lid back over the hole. Frank was still down there.

"No!" Rose echoed the Doctor's scream.

"We can't go after him!" Solomon said roughly.

"I've got to go back down!" the Doctor argued, reaching for the lid even as Solomon rotated it shut. "We can't just leave him!"

"NO!" Solomon grabbed the Doctor by the lapels of his coat and pushed him away from the manhole. Martha backed into the corner and Rose let her go. She wrapped her arms around herself, pressed one gloved hand over her mouth, and tried to calm her racing heart.

"I'm not losing anybody else! Those creatures were from hell, hell itself. If we go after him, they'll take us all! There's nothing we can do." Solomon shook his head, wiping his eye with the back of his hand. "I'm sorry," he said to the lid that had sealed Frank down there with the pigs.

A shapely young woman with short, curled blonde hair stepped around a shelf with a gun in her hand. "Alright then, put 'em up." she ordered in a thick New York accent that was even more pronounced than Solomon's.

Martha put her hands into the air immediately, still shaken, but Rose gritted her teeth and didn't move. From bums fighting over bread, to pigs with teeth, to a blonde with a gun—this day was just getting better and better.

She cocked the gun purposefully. "Hands in the air, and no funny business." Solomon, the Doctor, and Rose lifted their hands in air. Oh yeah. Better and better by the minute. "Now, tell me, you schmucks, what have you done with Laszlo?"

"Who's Laszlo?" Martha asked.

The blonde narrowed her eyes and moved her gun between all of them. She rubbed her red lips together, considering, then jerked her head towards the way she came. "Alright you four…start walking. Out the door and turn left. And no funny business!" she added.

She stepped out of the way and motioned them forward with the gun. "Come on, come on, I ain't got all night!"

Solomon and the Doctor exchanged looks then Solomon grudgingly led the party out. The Doctor looked at his two companions and nodded towards the door. Rose went first, glaring at the blonde as she passed. They'd come out in some sort of storage room, it seemed. There were costume racks and prop shelves and several dummies with wigs and masks. Though what kind of storage room had a manhole in it?

The blonde directed them down the hall then told Solomon to open up one of the doors with a star on it. She marched past them into the dressing room, flipping on the light, and plopped down in the chair in front of a vanity. Almost as an afterthought, she pointed the gun at them again. They stood in the doorway unsurely, glancing at each other, and the Doctor kept himself between the gun and his companions. The blonde picked up a cotton ball and sighed.

"So, um, who's Laszlo?" Rose asked.

"Laszlo's my boyfriend," the blonde said. "_Was_ my boyfriend, until he disappeared two weeks ago—no letter, no goodbye, no nothing. And I'm not stupid," she added, pointing to herself with the gun. "I know some guys are just pigs, but not my Laszlo."

She gestured angrily and they all flinched as the gun was momentarily pointed at them. At this rate, one of them was accidentally going to be shot. "I mean, what kind of guy asks you to meet his mom before he vamooses?"

The Doctor lifted his hand. "It might—it might just help if you put that down."

"Huh?" she asked, open-mouthed. Her eyes flicked to the gun then rolled. "Oh, sure."

She tossed it carelessly onto the chair. Solomon cringed, the Doctor jumped a bit and Martha and Rose ducked behind him. "Oh come on!" she laughed, waving off their reactions and picked up the cotton again. "It's not real. It's just a prop. It was either that or a spear."

Rose cracked a grin. _Not bad._

"What do you think happened to Laszlo?" Martha asked, stepping out from behind the Doctor.

"I wish I knew. One minute, he's there. The next, zip—vanished." She dropped the cotton onto her vanity desk.

The Doctor walked into the room. "Listen, um…what was your name?"

"Tallulah."

"Tallulah."

"Three L's and an 'H.""

"Right. Um, we can try and find Laszlo, but he's not the only one. There are people disappearing every night."

"And there are creatures," Solomon added with a nervous glance in the direction they'd come from. "Such creatures."

"What do you mean, creatures?" Tallulah drawled.

"Look, listen, just trust me. Everyone is in danger," the Doctor said, reaching into his pocket, and he pulled out the lumpy thing. "I need to find out exactly what this is. Because then I'll know exactly what we're fighting."

Tallulah leaned away in her seat and made a noise of disgust.

"And I held his hand just a few minutes ago," Rose told her.

Tallulah shuddered. "Well look, I don't know nothing about…whatever that is, but if it's gonna help you find Laszlo, you're welcome to anything you can find around here. Just don't tell nobody I said so—you got that? You get caught I had nothin' to do with this or else I lose my job. And keep outta the way 'cause we got a show in an hour."

"Thank you."

"Yeah. Hey girls," she smiled at Rose and Martha. "You can wait here with me if you want."

"Oh, that's sounds great," Martha said eagerly. After trecking through the sewers and being pursued by pigs, relaxing backstage in an actual New York revue sounded brilliant. She walked over to the couch against the wall and flopped down, leaning back against the soft, squishy cushions.

Rose, on the other hand, didn't acknowledge Tallulah's offer, and instead looked up at the Doctor. "Can I help?"

He shook his head. "No, not really. Stay here, have a seat. Watch the show."

"Fine, but one thing, mister." She pointed at him severely. "No running off without me. I mean it. I don't fancy havin' to track you down to save you."

He smiled warmly. "Now you know how I feel whenever you wander off."

"Doctor."

"Alright, I promise I won't."

She smiled, "Good."

The Doctor went off to construct something that would help him figure out what the hell that blob was, Tallulah shooed Solomon away and shut the door behind him. Rose plopped down on the couch next to Martha and shucked her gloves.

"So!" she said brightly. "I never got your names."

"Why do you need them? Don't you have your own?"

Tallulah laughed. "Oh, I like you. But come on, who are you?"

"I'm Rose and this is Martha. The tall one was the Doctor and the other was Solomon."

"Well, how do ya do?" she said and plopped back down in her chair. "You're from across the water, aint'chya?"

They nodded.

"Believe it or not, I've never been there. So what's it like in New Jersey?"

Rose and Martha glanced at each other.

"Naw I'm just kidding. Come on, I'm not that stupid. I know a London accent when I hear it. What are you doing in New York? The Depression hittin' you hard over there yet?"

"Dunno," Martha admitted. "We haven't been home in a long while. We're travellers."

"Oh," she gasped, "lucky." Tallulah glanced at the clock jumped out of her chair. She closed the door then turned to the costume rack next to her. She pulled a hanger with a silver sparkling leotard out and held it up. "Sorry, I gotta get changed real quick."

"Go ahead. We can step out."

"Don't matter." she told them. But they did politely avert their eyes when she changed out of her dress and into the costume. She rifled through the odds and ends on her vanity and drawers, muttering darkly. "Aw nuts. Either of you see a tiara with a halo anywhere?"

They shifted around on the couch, lifting cushions and the thin drapery, then searched the room with their eyes.

"Is that it?" Martha pointed.

Tallulah followed her finger. "Yes! That's it! Oh, thank you, honey." She plucked the headpiece from a shelf above one of the costume racks and sat back down in her chair.

"So, what do you play?"

"An angle, I guess." Tallulah said as she placed the crown-halo on her head. "I sing the song, too."

Rose arched her eyebrows. "Looks a bit too skimpy for an angel, no offense."

Tallulah smiled. "Well, the song's called _Heaven and Hell_. The other girls are all devils. And I only mean that literally about one of 'em." She giggled, Martha laughed, and Rose found herself liking Tallulah.

She put a pair of strappy silver heels on and a diamond necklace around her neck. "Lazlo used to tell me I looked like an angel even without the costume."

"He sounds like a nice guy." Rose told her. "You're lucky."

"Lucky as anyone can be these days, yeah." She agreed, putting in one of her earrings, and sighed. "Laszlo, he'd wait for me after the show, walk me home, like I was a lady. He'd leave a flower for me on my dressing table—every day, just a single rosebud."

"Haven't you reported him missing?" Martha stood up from the couch and walked over to the vanity.

"Sure, but he's just a stagehand. Who cares? The management certainly don't."

Solomon had said something similar. The police didn't care about people in Hooverville going missing and they didn't care about missing stagehands, either. They were just little people on the road to starvation. So what if they got knocked off a bit sooner? Not like they were going to make a big difference anyway. It made Rose's blood boil. The police had been like that about people from the Estate, too.

A woman named Christa Mason used to live two floors down with her son, Aaron. Rose hadn't known Aaron well since he'd been six years her senior, but one day he vanished, seemingly into thin air. No note, no goodbye, no nothing. The police were called, of course, but Christa Mason hadn't had the stubborn persistence of Jackie Tyler. Aaron was soon written off as a runaway and forgotten about. He could've been kidnapped, he could've been killed, he could've run off with a madman in a blue box and died on some alien planet—it didn't matter. He was just another Estate kid who wouldn't have amounted to anything anyway.

Rose had probably been written off as the same a few weeks after she'd disappeared with the Doctor. And look at what she'd become. She had no job, no A-levels, no home (on Earth), no family…but she had saved the universe, she had all of time and space to explore, and she was in love with the reason the Earth was still spinning.

"Can't you just kick up a fuss or something?" Martha asked.

"Okay, so then they fire me."

"Bet they'd listen to you." She leaned down to look at herself in the mirror. "You're one of the stars."

Tallulah smiled. "Oh, honey, I got one song in a backstreet revue, and that's only 'cause Heidi Chicane broke her ankle, which had nothin' to do with me, whatever anybody says. I can't afford to make a fuss."

Martha was fiddling idly with a tube of lipstick, looking doubtful.

"If I don't make this months rent, then before you know it, I'm in Hooverville."

"Okay. I get it." Martha held up her hands.

"It's not right, though," Rose said vehemently, rising to her feet. "And if it wouldn't get me arrested and you sacked I would have a word with the management myself. Several, actually."

Tallulah smiled at them. "Thank you. But it's the Depression, sweetie. Your heart might break, but the show goes on. 'Cause if it stops, you starve." She rose from her chair, her expression sad. "Every night, have to go out there, sing, dance, keep goin', hopin' he's gonna come back." Her face crumped and Rose pulled her into a hug.

"I'm sorry," Martha told her.

"Me too," Rose added.

Tallulah sniffed, patting Rose on the back. "Hey, you're lucky, though." She pulled away and wiped her eye. "You've got yourself a forward thinking guy with that hot potato in the sharp suit."

"Oh, he's not—I mean, we're not—"

"Aw, come off it, Rose." Martha grinned and elbowed her. "You're not fooling anyone."

"You're not, really." Tallulah agreed, spinning around her chair. "I've seen the way you look at him, it's obvious."

"Yeah, well, we're not a couple," she mumbled, stuffing her hands into her jacket pockets.

Tallulah plucked her wings off a chair and started to slide them up her arms. "He ain't into musical theater, is he? What a waste."

Rose frowned in confusion but then it dawned on her. "Oh! Oh, no, no, he isn't. Trust me. But it's…it's really complicated."

"Well, you got to live in hope." Tallulah told her, adjusting the straps of her wings. "It's the only thing that's kept me going, 'cause…well, look." She picked a single, fresh white rosebud from her vanity and held it out for them to see. "On my dressing table, every day, still."

"Do you think it's Laszlo?" Martha asked.

"I don't know. If he's still around, why's he being all secret, like he doesn't want me to see him?"

She shook her head. "I don't know."

Tallulah sniffed once and sighed, setting the rose gently back onto her table.

"Maybe he's ashamed to face you?" Rose suggested.

"But why? What could he have done that would make him think I don't wanna see him?"

There were hundreds of things she could think of, but Tallulah was already suffering. She didn't need a list of possible atrocities her boyfriend may have committed, so Rose just shook her head. Tallulah sighed again then smiled tightly at Rose.

"Well, the show must go on."

* * *

**I saw Layla again this weekend. She says you have to leave a lot of reviews. Or else. **


	20. Daleks Under Manhattan

**Over 300 reviews in 20 chapters. I think that's a new record for me!**

* * *

The Doctor was off somewhere working and they hadn't seen any sign of Solomon, which meant he'd either left on his own or had been kicked out. So when Tallulah, bright eyed and excited, asked them to come watch the show, they agreed since they had nothing better to do and they were curious. They stood in the wings back stage safely beyond the view of the audience, but close enough to have a good view.

The dancers flounced onto the stage and got into their places behind the curtain. There were nine of them total: eight devils—dark haired with red sequin dresses not unlike Tallulah's, feathered horned hats, and a single large red feathered fan each—and Tallulah herself. The announcer introduced them over the loud speaker and the music began to play. Rose flashed Tallulah a thumbs up as the curtains opened. The crowd applauded and whistled appreciatively.

Tallulah danced down the isle between the rows of devils up to the microphone. When she started to sing the devils began their dance routine.

"_You lured me in with your cold grey eyes_

_Your simple smile and your bewitching lies_

_One and one and one is three_

_My bad, bad, angel, the Devil, and me."_

"Bit better than Shakespeare, yeah?" Rose muttered to Martha.

She grinned, moving her shoulders to the music.

"_You put the Devil in me_

_You put the Devil in me._

_You put the Devil in me._

_My bad, bad angel_

_You put the Devil in me."_

Tallulah sashayed away from the microphone and joined the dancers. It was about this time that Martha noticed another person watching from the wings and for a moment her heart literally stopped beating. It was one of _them_! A pigman! Here, now!

_Wait, is he watching the show? _

Yes, that was what he appeared to be doing. He wasn't moving to attack them or lure them in he was just watching. But he was still on this side of the manhole, which meant there might have been others. Were they here to steal the dancers? Were they here for them? Where was the Doctor?

She tapped on Rose's shoulder quickly and pointed across the stage. When she spotted him her eyes widened and she swore under her breath. Martha jerked her head towards the pig and stepped out onto stage, ducking behind one of the dancers.

"What are you doing?!" Rose hissed loudly but her voice was drowned out by a dancer who demanded the same thing.

"Come back here, Martha!"

Martha didn't hear her over the music and darted to hide behind the next girl and accidentally grabbed her tail, causing them both to fall. Rose rolled her eyes and smacked her forehead. A quick glance at the pigman showed that he was still just watching the stage and if he'd noticed Martha, she didn't worry him.

Instead of going out onto stage, Rose circled back and found a path through the curtains behind the stage. He didn't see her coming. From this close, she noticed something very, very crucial. He wasn't entirely a pig, not like the others. So, either the species didn't look like the ones that had chased them in the sewers until a certain part of life, or he only half pigman. What was the other half? Human? He looked somewhat human. But if one of his parents was human than he or she must've been seriously drunk…and desperate.

She was literally just feet away from him when he suddenly jumped, startled, and stared in horror at the stage. Then she heard a woman scream and he bolted. Rose lunged, missed, and he yelped. She ran after him shouting, "Hey! Wait! Stop!"

Martha ran off the stage and for a moment, stared at Rose, dumbfounded, as if walking around the stage hadn't occurred to her. Then she shook her head quickly and followed Rose and the pigman.

He ran down the hallway where the dressing rooms were, heading in the direction of the prop room, no doubt hoping to escape down the manhole.

"Just wait!" Rose shouted after him as he disappeared into the prop room. She followed and Martha arrived just a moment later.

"Where'd he go?" she panted. They heard a clanging sound, like metal on metal, and knew that he was gone.

Rose took a few deep breaths then scowled at Martha. "Walking across stage? That was your brilliant plan? If you'd just gone around we coulda had him!"

"I didn't even think about it," she admitted.

Rose saw the pigman but had no time to react before it grabbed Martha. It was a full pigman, as dangerous as the ones below. Martha screamed and Rose jumped at the pig, hitting and scratching at its face with her nails. It squealed and hit her with its forearm, sending her careening into a prop table. Pain flared in her hip and arm where she made contact with the table. It collapsed under the force, props clanging and scattering across the floor. She hit the ground hard.

She moaned quietly and by the time she opened her eyes, Martha and the pigman were gone.

"MARTHA! ROSE!"

The Doctor burst into the prop room, looking around wildly, and saw her on the ground. He dropped to his knees beside her and touched her arm. "Rose? What happened?"

She moaned again and lifted her head. "There was…there was this pigman, Doctor. He didn't look like the rest." She sat up, rubbing her bruised arm. "We chased him in here then another one showed up and grabbed Martha."

"Where is she?"

Rose blinked, noticing Tallulah for the first time. She stood just behind the Doctor, her halo and wings gone and her eyes wide.

"It took her."

The Doctor's jaw tightened. "Can you walk?"

"Think so," she grunted as she got to her feet. He held onto her arm to steady her and she winced, rubbing her hip.

"Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine," she said and pointed at the open manhole. "But Martha's down there. Come on."

She pulled her gloves out of her pocket and put them on and the Doctor retrieved his coat from where he'd hung it on a hook.

"Ooh. Where are you going?" Tallulah asked.

"They've taken Martha. We're going to get her," the Doctor said, pulling his coat on.

"Who's taken her? What are you doing?"

The Doctor didn't respond, pushing the cover out of the way, and started down.

"Stay here," Rose told her then followed him.

"I said, what the hell are you doin'?" Tallulah called down.

The Doctor pulled out a small torch from his pocket and Rose went over to the ones they'd discarded earlier when they fled. Only one of them still worked. There was a small clang and they looked up to see Tallulah descending the ladder, wrapped in a fur coat.

"No, no, no, no, no way. You're not coming." the Doctor said.

Tallulah paused. "Tell me what's going on." She demanded without her usual accent.

"There's nothing you can do. Go back."

She started back down the ladder. "Look, whoever's taken Martha, they could've taken Lazlo, couldn't they?"

"Tallulah, you're not safe down here."

"Then that's my problem!" she ground out. "Come on. Which way?" With an icy glare, she walked past him and down the tunnel Rose was standing by.

He met Rose's gaze for a moment and she nodded. He gritted his teeth and started in the right direction. "This way," he sighed.

Tallulah trailed behind them, whimpering every few seconds, stepping around the water when she could. Her heels clicked against the stone floor, magnified in the enclosed space, and grated against Rose's nerves. She and the Doctor knew how to move quickly and quietly and how to complain internally—the showgirl knew neither, it seemed. More than once they had to hiss at her to be quiet or flat out shush her and that was before even started talking.

"When you say 'they've taken her', who's 'they,' exactly? …And who are you, anyway? I never asked."

"Shh," the Doctor whispered as his sensitive ears registered noise coming from up the tunnel.

"Okay, okay," she rolled her eyes.

"Shh, shh, shh, shh, shh!" He held up his hand for her to be quiet and stared ahead.

A horrifyingly familiar shadow slid along the wall and Rose's heart stopped.

"I mean you're a handsome enough—"

The Doctor jumped back, throwing his hand over Tallulah's mouth and grabbing Rose with the other. He dragged them away from the split, back around the corner, and into an alcove. Rose found herself sandwiched between the cold wall and the expanse of the Doctor's back. He heart galloped in her chest and she had to press her face into the Doctor's shoulder to muffle the sound of her breathing as the metallic rolling got closer. She watched over the fabric of his suit as a Dalek glided past their hiding place. If it turned its eyestalk just a bit to the left then it would see them.

_Don't turn, don't turn, oh God, don't turn. _

The TARDIS pulsed angrily in her mind, her song dark and dangerous.

The Dalek rolled past without noticing them and Tallulah wrenched the Doctor's hand away from her mouth. When he took a step forward, Rose held onto his suit, completely terrified. They should be gone—locked in hell with the rest of their kind.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no," the Doctor murmured, stepping out of the alcove to watch it go, Rose peering around him. "They survive. They always survive."

Rose emerged from behind his back and slid her hand into his. His fingers curled around hers, squeezing tightly, and he looked down at her. She looked back, her eyes sad and terrified…and yellow and ancient. His beloved ship, so afraid for them that she was revealing her presence in Rose's mind through her eyes. It'd been weeks since it'd happened.** Months.** Not since Shakespeare. And in that moment, he hated the Daleks a little bit more. He hadn't even known that was possible.

"That metal thing? What was it?" Tallulah, for her part, figured there was something bad about that metal thingy that had rolled by based on their reactions alone. But she wasn't expecting the answer she got.

"A Dalek," Rose said darkly without turning. Tallulah didn't need to get the wrong idea about her. She guessed from the Doctor's expression that her eyes were doing that weird gold thing again. Didn't surprise her, really, with all the emotions running through her and the way the TARDIS had sounded in her head.

"And it's not just metal," the Doctor added in a growl. "It's alive."

Tallulah laughed, "You're kiddin' me."

"Do I look like I'm kidding?" he snapped and her smile faded. "Inside that shell, there's a creature, born to hate, whose only thought is to destroy everything and everyone that isn't a Dalek, too."

Tallulah glanced at him like he was nuts.

"And it won't stop until it's killed every human being alive." he added quietly.

"But if that's not a human being, that kind of implies it's from outer space." She smiled nervously, hoping they'd contradict her. He just looked at her. "Yet again, that's a no with the kiddin'. Oy… Well, what's it doing here in New York?"

The Doctor said nothing and simply glared in the direction the Dalek had gone.

"Well?" She was standing right beside them now.

"Same thing they're always doin': trying to kill everyone." Rose looked at her and when Tallulah gasped she remembered why she hadn't wanted to do that.

"What's wrong with your—"

"There's nothing wrong with them." she said quickly.

"A-a-are you…are you from outer space too?"

"No, I'm human."

Without warning, the Doctor seized their arms and started hauling them back the way they came. He was angry and afraid, she could feel it in his grip, and she wasn't the least bit surprised. There was a _Dalek_ here and she prayed there was only one.

One was bad enough on its own. _ "You could hide an army down here_," Frank had said. Hopefully there wasn't. Well, there was an army of pigs, but they would be easier to deal with than an army of Daleks. Nothing short of the Bad Wolf could deal with that, especially in this day and age.

"Leggo of me!" Tallulah yelped. "Get your mitts off!"

"Every second you're down here, you're in danger. I'm taking you back, right now."

"You are_ not _gonna—" Rose said before he could even finish his sentence, but she was interrupted by Tallulah's startled shriek. She screamed once, too, as they found themselves face-to-face with a pigman.

It skidded to a stop when it saw them, looking around wildly for an escape, then scrambled back and ducked into the shadow of an alcove.

"Where's Martha?!" the Doctor demanded harshly, approaching it. "What have you done with her?" He stood on the other side of the pigman, cutting off the other escape route, and shined his torch at it. "What have you done with Martha?"

"I didn't take her," the pig man said in perfect English.

The Doctor's eyes narrowed in surprise. "You remember your name?"

"Don't…look at me."

"Do you know where she is?" Tallulah lowered her hands from her mouth and walked towards them.

"Stay back!" the pigman held out his hand but didn't turn. "Don't look at me."

"What happened to you?" the Doctor asked.

"They made me a monster."

"Who did?"

"The masters."

"The Daleks," he corrected. "Why?"

"They needed slaves," he explained. "They needed slaves to steal more people, so they created us—part animal, part human."

While he spoke, Rose closed the distance between herself and the Doctor. The pig man glanced at her for a second, eyes widening with horror, and when he saw her face properly in the light, he relaxed and continued on.

"I escaped before they got my mind, but it was still too late."

"You were there," Rose said. "In the theater."

"So were you."

"We saw you."

"You chased me."

She took a step forward, her expression icy. "You led us into the room, disappeared, and then one of your mates got her."

"You shouldn't have been there. I'm sorry, I really am. She's probably with the other people taken tonight."

"Hang on a minute," Tallulah interrupted. "You were in the theater?"

"I never—" he started to say then closed his eyes. "Yes."

"Why? Why were you there?"

"I never wanted you to see me like this."

"Why me? What do I got to do with this?" Arms wrapped around her chest, she took a few steps closer. "Were you following me? Is that why you were there?"

The pig man turned around, but not before Rose saw the mournful expression on his face, and sighed. "Yes."

No, no. It couldn't be. It _couldn't_ be. But it made sense and Rose hoped she was wrong, because it was too cruel. But Daleks were cruel and their very existence made life darker. The people in Henry van Statten's bunker, the people on the Gamestation and 200,100 Earth, Canary Wharf, the Time Lords, everyone in the Time War. And now the people being turned into slaves

Tallulah stared at him, open-mouthed. "Who are you?"

"I was lonely."

"Who are you?" she asked, voice breaking.

"I needed to see you."

"Who are you?"

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

He turned to go but she reached out and grabbed his arm, turning him around. "No, wait. …Let me look at you." She moved him back into the light trickling down from somewhere above. He sighed as her eyes searched his face.

"Laszlo?" He gave her the barest of nods. "My Laszlo?" Her lower lip trembled and she touched his face. "Oh, what have they done to you?" She straightened the collar of his coveralls and smoothed down the front before resting her hands on his shoulders.

"I'm sorry," he repeated softly. "I'm so sorry."

The Doctor had been standing back to give them space, but now he had to interrupt them. The more they stood here the greater the chance that Martha would be turned into a pig herself. "Laszlo, can you show me where they are?"

Laszlo turned. Of course he could. "But they'll kill you."

"If I don't stop them, they'll kill everyone."

He exhaled softly and nodded in agreement. He looked at Tallulah and she nodded with an encouraging smile. "Then follow me," he told the Doctor.

Rose and the Doctor glanced at each other then followed the half-pig man down the tunnels. He told them they had about a mile to go until they reached the laboratory where the Daleks were based, but to keep quiet because the slaves were always patrolling the tunnels with orders to capture anyone they found. Rose wished, not for the first time, that the Doctor carried some sort of weapon besides his sonic screwdriver. At least something they could bash a pigman over the head with if one came along.

When they heard voices and pig snorts coming from up ahead they slowed and crept along the last few lengths of the tunnels. They hadn't gone anything close to a mile yet. They peeked around the corner and saw a group of pigmen standing guard over a cluster of humans. Rose sighed in relief when she heard Martha's voice over the squealing, followed by Frank's.

"What are they doing? What's wrong? What's wrong?"

"SILENCE. SILENCE."

Rose literally jumped half a foot in the air at the harsh, grating voice straight from her nightmares. Laszlo ducked back around the corner and Rose gripped the Doctor's hand so tightly that she wouldn't have been surprised if it ended up breaking.

"YOU WILL FORM A LINE. MOVE! MOVE!"

The pigs squealed and grunted, shoving the poor humans against the wall. Some of them struggled, of course, because they were human and humans had always been a stubborn lot.

"Just do what it says everyone!" That was Martha. "Just…obey!"

"THE FEMALE IS WISE. OBEY."

"REPORT," another Dalek rolled around the corner.

"THESE ARE STRONG SPECIMENS. THEY WILL HELP THE DALEK CAUSE. WHAT IS THE STATUS OF THE FINAL EXPERIMENT?"

"THE DALEKANIUM IS IN PLACE. THE ENERGY CONDUCTOR IS NOW COMPLETE."

"THEN I WILL EXTRACT PRISONERS FOR SELECTION."

A pig grabbed a black man in a cap and pulled him forward as the Dalek stated, "INTELLEGENCE SCAN. INITIATE"

Rose gasped and slapped her hand over her mouth when she saw the Dalek raise the suction on the end of its arm towards the man's face, recalling what had happened the last time she'd seen that happen. Thankfully her noise had gone unnoticed by everyone down the tunnel.

"READING BRAINWAVES. …LOW INTELLEGENCE."

"You calling me stupid?" the man asked crossly.

"SILENCE! THIS ONE WILL BECOME A PIG SLAVE. NEXT!"

"No, let go of me!" the man shouted as two pigs hauled him away. "I'm not becoming one of them! NO! LET ME GO!"

Laszlo looked at them, his still-human eyes sad. "They're divided into two groups," he explained—high intelligence and low intelligence. The low intelligence are taken to become pig slaves like me."

"Well, that's not fair," Tallulah protested. Dear God, did that woman not know how to whisper?

The Doctor shushed her.

She glanced at him then whispered, "You're the smartest guy I ever dated."

"And the others?" he asked.

"They're taken to the laboratory." Laszlo said.

"But why? Why for?"

"I don't know. The masters only call it 'The Final…Experiment.'"

Frank was deemed intelligent and Martha was as well, mere seconds after the scan started.

"THIS ONE WILL BECOME PART OF THE FINAL EXPERIMENT."

"You can't just experiment on people!" Martha shouted at it. "IT'S INSANE!"

Ignoring her, the Dalek rotated and addressed the remaining pig slaves. "PRISONERS OF HIGH INTELLIGENCE WILL BE TAKEN TO THE TRANSGENIC LABORATORY."

"Look out. They're moving," the Doctor hissed, pulling Rose back.

Tallulah and Laszlo were going to make a run for it. "Doctor! Doctor, Rose, quickly!"

"I'm not coming," the Doctor whispered. "I've got an idea. You go!"

Laszlo sent Tallulah on her way and, though she protested, she did flee on her own and Laszlo rejoined them. Once again Rose found herself pressed between a wall and the Doctor's back as the Daleks rolled past. There was a terrifying moment when she thought the Daleks may turn and head down their tunnel, but luck was on their side this time and they went down the opposite one. The Doctor waited until Martha passed in front of them then he slipped into the line. Rose moved in behind him, just in front of Frank who squeezed her shoulder in greeting.

"Don't turn around," the Doctor murmured to Martha. "Just keep walking."

She gasped softly. "Oh! I am so glad to see you."

"Yeah, well, you can kiss me later. You, too, Frank, if you want."

Frank sniggered.

Rose poked the Doctor's back and he managed to smile over his shoulder at her.

"Is Rose with you?" Martha asked.

"Yeah, she's right behind me. We found Laszlo, too."

"You did?"

"Mmm, and he escaped halfway to becoming a pig, so don't stare."

"Doctor, those metal things…are they—"

"Yes," he said flatly.

"They're the ones who—"

"Yes."

Martha took a shuddering breath and her blood ran like ice water through her veins. She knew he and Rose had managed to stop the Daleks the last three times they'd faced them—even if only just barely—but would their luck continue? One Dalek alone could kill hundreds before being vanquished and who knew how many were hiding under New York. At least two, and they were enough to bring the city to its knees, for sure.

The half-mile trek to the Dalek's base was long, but over far too quickly. Part of all of them wished they would simply roam the tunnels forever and never reach their destination, but a part of them wanted to see where they'd end up.

The first indication that they were nearing the laboratory was when the wet bricks became dry, and then turned into smooth stone, and when they passed through a door, they became the walls of a building. Slowly they began to hear the rumbling of machinery, the hum of electricity, the crackling of flames, and a bizarre hissing noise. One of the Daleks paused and ordered them to keep moving. The Doctor ducked his head when they passed the Dalek and Rose stared at the floor. It either didn't notice them or didn't care. It probably had never seen either of them before and wouldn't have recognized them as a threat anyway.

The Dalek's base was a great room supported by columns that extended upward into the dark, further than Rose could see. Lamps and electric lights on each column illuminated the lower area. The tables and counters were littered with beakers and test tubes, some filled with mixtures, others empty; and there were stacks of machines here and there, all of them equipped with controls operable only by Daleks. The whole place was cold and reeked of pigmen, death and illness, burning flesh, and a peculiar odor that she couldn't quite put her finger on.

A single Dalek stood near the far wall, shaking with smoke issuing from its black casing. There were four Daleks in total, including the black one, and she knew without a doubt who they were: the Cult of Skaro. They'd somehow escaped the pull of the Void and wound up in 1930. All of the others had been sucked in, except for the ones who'd caused the whole mess in the first place. She clenched her teeth against a scream of rage.

"It's the Cult of Skaro," she hissed through her teeth. The Doctor nodded once.

"REPORT!" One of the brass-colored Daleks shouted at its two comrades that were watching the smoking black one.

One of them turned. "DALEK SEC IS ENTERING THE FINAL STAGE OF EVOLUTION."

"SCAN HIM. PREPARE FOR BIRTH!"

"'Evolution?'" the Doctor muttered.

"What's wrong with old Charlie boy over there?" Martha asked.

"Ask them."

Martha gasped. "What, me? Don't be daft. You do it, Rose. You've done it before."

"Exactly," Rose murmured, "they know who I am. If they see me or the Doctor they'll kill us. It's got to be you."

"Now ask them what's going on," the Doctor commanded quietly.

Martha took a deep breath and stepped away from the group. She took a deep breath and, shaking like a leaf the entire time, called out, "Daleks!" The three Daleks spun around almost immediately. "I demand to be told—what is this…Final Experiment?"

Laszlo and Frank moved to conceal the Doctor and Rose as one of the Daleks rolled towards her.

The Dalek considered her for a second and she exhaled loudly. "Report!"

"YOU WILL BEAR WITNESS."

"To what?"

"THIS IS THE DAWN OF A NEW AGE."

"What does that mean?"

"WE ARE THE ONLY FOUR DALEKS IN EXISTENCE, SO THE SPECIES MUST EVOLVE. A LIFE OUTSIDE THE SHELL—THE CHILDREN OF SKARO MUST WALK AGAIN."

With that, the Dalek backed away and spun back around. The other two Daleks backed away from Dalek Sec. The black metal monster slowly stopped shaking and the blue light behind his eyestalk died. The casing his as it parted, revealing a crouched humanoid figure below the place where there'd once been a shapeless genetically engineered mass. But unlike the one she'd seen so long ago, this one hadn't been altered by Rose's DNA to question itself.

The humanoid slowly pulled itself from the casing. It had ugly brown, blotched skin, clawed hands, and a head with six tentacles on either side with bands of skin holding in a large pink brain. A single green eye, like that of a Cyclops, opened and closed as its neural receptors adjusted to the light. The most horrifying part, however, were the black suit and spats it was wearing. That wasn't something a Dalek would choose to be born in. They must've used someone's body.

"What is it?" Martha gasped.

The creature slowly straightened up, its hands uncurling as it looked at the ceiling. Rose gasped, her mouth working in soundless horror, and she took a step back. The Daleks moved away from it as well.

The creature lowered its head and looked directly at them. "I…am…a human Dalek. I…am your future!"

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**Hmm... I do believe you all will like the next chapter.**

**Now you should all review. :D Maybe I can get 400 reviews by chapter 25 (fat chance, but a girl can dream.) Also, a reminder to the anonymous reviews: I can't reply to any of you! So if you want a reply, sign in!**


	21. The Battle for Hooverville

**The Teaspoon crowd responded very...excitedly to this particular chapter. This should be interesting, I think.**

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"These humans will become like me."

If Rose had to pick the way she wanted to die, death by Dalek was not the way she would've chosen. Especially not death so her body could be one half of a Dalek hybrid. That ranked somewhere between death by Ood and being Upgraded. If she could choose the manner of her departure, she would definitely want to die burning from having the Vortex running through her head, because if that ever happened again it would probably mean she was saving her Doctor and the rest of the universe.

Yeah, that'd be the way to go.

"Prepare them for hybridization." Dalek Sec ordered in the hoarse, accented voice he'd stolen.

When the pigs closed in on them, Rose realized that the Doctor had left her side. Which meant he was coming up with some way to save them because he wouldn't just leave them like this. So if it meant giving him a few more seconds to do whatever he was trying to do, then she would reveal herself. She ducked under the arm of the pig reaching for her and whistled loudly to get their attention.

"Oi! You lot!" she shouted. "Remember me?"

The Daleks turned their eyestalks towards her and the only question was which one of them would recognize her first.

"YOU! YOU WERE THERE WITH THE CYBERMEN." the one on the right screamed.

"Glad you remember me." She stuffed her hands in the pockets of her jacket. Behind her, the pigmen stopped trying to move the humans. "How's it been?"

"YOU ARE AN ASSOCIATE OF THE DOCTOR."

"An associate? Is that what I am?"

"You murdered the Emperor." Dalek Sec accused.

"Your powers of perception amaze." _Any time now would be great, Doctor_.

"YOU ARE AN ENEMY OF THE DALEKS!"

A vintage song started playing somewhere and Rose smirked. That would be the Doctor, then. No one else would make that kind of entrance.

"What is that sound?" Sec demanded.

The Doctor peeked out from behind one of the machines with a radio in his hand. "Ah, well, now, that would be me." He shut it off, setting it on the table, and walked casually towards Dalek Sec. "Hello. Surprise! Boo! Et cetera."

"Doctor."

"THE ENEMY OF THE DALEKS!"

"EXTERMINATE!"

"Wait!" Dalek Sec threw out his arms and the Daleks looked at him in disbelief, but obeyed.

Rose wished she could see the Doctor's face so she would know how he was taking this. She herself was surprised that the hybrid had stopped his pure comrades from killing the Doctor. That might have just very well been a good sign. Maybe.

A girl could hope.

"Well, then, a new form of Dalek." The Doctor strolled forward with his hands in his pockets. Dalek Sec's tentacles twitched erratically as he approached. "Fascinating. And very clever."

"The Cult of Skaro escaped your slaughter," Dalek Sec growled.

"How did you end up in 1930?"

"Emergency Temporal Shift."

"Oh, oh!" the Doctor laughed. "That must've roasted up your power cells, yeah?" He turned around, tugging on his earlobe, and slowly walked back towards the would-be test subjects. He caught Rose's eye for a moment and she could tell he wanted her to move. She took one step backwards, then another.

Laszlo, as if reading the Doctor's mind, pulled her back and Frank shifted so she was mostly hidden behind him. With Rose safe (as safe as she cold be in a room full of Daleks, anyway), he continued on talking. "Time was, four Daleks could've conquered the world. But instead you're skulking away, hidden in the dark, experimenting." He looked Sec up and down. "All of which results…in you."

Dalek Sec took a step forward. "I am Dalek in human form!"

"But what does it feel like?" he asked quietly. "You can talk to me, Dalek Sec—it is 'Dalek Sec,' isn't it? That's your name. You've got a name and a mind of your own—tell me what you're thinking right now."

Dalek Sec's eye narrowed. "I…feel…humanity." He turned away, as if ashamed by this realization.

"Good. That's good."

"I…feel…everything we wanted from mankind, which is…ambition…hatred…aggression…and war! Such…a genius for war!"

"No," the Doctor shook his head. "That's not what humanity means."

"I think it does! Your female murdered the Emperor. She feels…pride in it. The way a Dalek would feel pride in destroying an enemy." Dalek Sec actually smiled then at the cold fury that had entered the Doctor's eyes. "At heart, this species is so very…Dalek."

Frank felt Rose flinch at the monster's words and he resisted the urge to look at her since he was supposed to be hiding her. Personally he wanted to thump her on the back and tell her job well done. Though she didn't much like being compared to one of those things. Neither did he, actually. He didn't go 'round turning people into pigs.

"Alright!" the Doctor turned again and moved closer to the people. The Daleks automatically got out of his way. "So what have you achieved, then, with this Final Experiment, eh? Nothing! Because I can show you what you're missing." He pointed at the radio. "With this thing—simple little radio." He patted it.

"WHAT IS THE PURPOSE OF THAT DEVICE?" one of the Daleks demanded.

"Well, exactly—it plays music. What's the point of that? Oh, with music, you can dance to it, sing with it—" he looked into the eyestalk of the nearest Dalek "—fall in love to it.

"Unless you're a Dalek of course. Then it's all just noise." He wrenched his hand from out of his pocket and pointed his sonic screwdriver at the radio. A high-pitched tone blared out from the speakers. Dalek Sec yelped, doubling over, and holding his head. The other Daleks rolled away.

It seemed to affect the pigmen too. All of them, even Laszlo, released their hostages and held their ears.

"RUN!" the Doctor bellowed.

"PROTECT THE HYBRID!"

"PROTECT! PROTECT!"

The humans fled through the tunnels with Rose at the lead. She had no idea where she was going but anywhere was better than that base. The farther away they got from the Daleks and their newest monstrosity the better. Probably the newest in a long line of experiments since they'd first arrived. That thing the Doctor had found earlier in the sewer—now that she knew what they were dealing with, she thought that it did look remarkably like a Dalek's true form. She'd seen one once, years ago.

So what had that thing been, then? A baby Dalek left to rot?

Rose slowed, searching wildly for a ladder. They needed to get up top.

"Come on!" the Doctor thundered as he overtook them. He grabbed her by the hand and pulled her along. "Move, move, move, move, move!"

Ahead they spotted Tallulah standing at a juncture, wide-eyed and lost. If they hadn't come this way she might've very well been captured. "And you, Tallulah, run!"

Rose gave her a push as she ran past, urging her to _move_. "What's happened to Laszlo?!" she wailed when she saw he wasn't among them.

"He had to stay behind!" Rose shouted. "He'll be fine!"

"But he—" she protested as she was pulled along by one of the men.

"MOVE!" the Doctor called over his shoulder.

The Doctor led them through the twists and turns with ease, and no one would've been surprised if he'd managed to map out the entire sewer system already. They ran flat-out for the entire way. One of them men tried to stop for breath, but Martha grabbed him firmly by the arm and hauled him on. When they reached the ladder underneath the revue, the Doctor urged them all up quickly and only ascended himself when they were all safely aboveground. Then with the help of two of the men, he pushed the manhole back into place and ran the sonic along the circumference, sealing it shut.

"There, they'll have a hard time following us." he said and straightened up. "At least this way."

"What…were those things?" one of the other men demanded.

"They're called Daleks," the Doctor told him flatly. "Imagine the most horrible monster you've ever heard of, multiply that by about a thousand and you've got a Dalek. If any of you aren't from Hooverville, you go home as fast as you can. Stick to the main roads, keep out of the shadows, and don't be alone. But don't go to the police, you'll only get them killed."

"How do you know so much about them?"

The Doctor fixed the man with a look so full anger and sadness that the man automatically stepped away from him. "Just run."

One of the men did end up going his own way, but the rest followed the Doctor back to Hooverville to warn everyone. Tallulah came too, she had nowhere else to go that would feel safe and she wasn't going to wait around backstage for more pigmen to come up. Plus, sticking with them was her best chance of finding Laszlo again.

As soon as they were out of the revue, Rose slipped her hand into the Doctor's and rested her head against his shoulder. "That was reckless, what you did back there." he murmured. "They would've killed you."

"I'd rather die human than live as a Dalek."

The Doctor's eyes widened. She had just unknowingly echoed his statement from the Gamestation. The choice he'd had to make for every living creature when he constructed the Delta wave. But she'd been gone, long gone by the time he'd said those words to Jack.

He squeezed her hand tighter. "I'd prefer if you did neither, to be perfectly honest."

Rose smiled.

The walk back to Hooverville was filled with mostly silence and furtive looks around, over shoulders, expecting pigmen or Daleks to appear at any moment. They tried to keep on the busiest streets, the ones illuminated by lampposts and the most moonlight. The Doctor kept Martha close to him and Rose even closer. When they entered the park, one of the residents of Hooverville took point, guiding them through lit trails towards the shantytown. When they got near enough, a sentry emerged from the shadows and found himself staring cross-eyed at the Doctor's sonic screwdriver.

"Easy, there!" the man said. "I ain't gonna hurt ya! …Marco? Elroy? Frank! You're alive! Solomon said you got taken."

"I did," Frank confirmed. "But we got away. Where's Solomon?"

"Follow me." He picked up a shotgun from the ground and led them the last few yards of the trail, on into Hooverville.

The entire place seemed to be on mauve alert. People were awake and stationed throughout the community, armed with guns, torches, and sticks. Like any of that would do any good against a Dalek but they were human and if there was one thing you could count on humans to do, it was to defend their own with whatever they had, even if the situation seemed hopeless. The sentry led them straight to Solomon who embraced Frank with the air of a father greeting his lost son, then sent the sentry back out to his post.

"Sit down, get warm," he told the women, gesturing to the fire. "And you, Doctor, can tell me what exactly happened down there."

He did, recounting everything from identifying the DNA type as being from the planet Skaro, to finding Laszlo, to what the Daleks were, to escaping back here. Solomon listened the whole time, asking only a few questions, with a gun clenched firmly in his hand. Rose, Tallulah, and Martha sat by the fire to keep warm. Tallulah had her feet propped up near the flames and Rose rested her head on Martha's shoulder.

"These…Daleks. They sound like the stuff out of nightmares." Solomon said when the Doctor was done. "And they want to breed?"

_And that's one mental image I did not need_. Rose scowled.

"They're splicing themselves onto human bodies. And if I'm right, they've got a farm of breeding stock right here in Hooverville." the Doctor looked around at the denizens. "You've got to get everyone out."

"Hooverville's the lowest place a man can fall. There's nowhere else to go."

"I'm sorry, Solomon. You've got to scatter," the Doctor told him urgently. "Go, anywhere—get onto the railroads, travel across state, just get out of New York!"

"There's got to be a way to reason with these things."

Rose laughed scornfully and Martha scoffed. "Not a chance."

"You ain't seen 'em, boss." Frank agreed, rising to his feet.

"Neither have you, not really." Rose pointed out. "You haven't seen what they do. Have done."

"Daleks are bad enough at any time, but right now, they're vulnerable." the Doctor said. "That makes them more dangerous than ever."

"You've _got _to listen to us, Solomon. I showed a Dalek pity once, a long time ago, and I got over two hundred people killed. Do you want that?"

Solomon looked down at her with a thousand questions written across his face, wanting to know who she really was, who _they_ were, how they knew so much, and what sort of life did they live? Who were they, the man and women who crouched around a shapeless thing in the sewers as if it wasn't unordinary, who spoke of other planets and aliens as if they were undeniable facts? Who was she, the young girl with wisdom beyond her years and eyes that occasionally seemed to reflect time itself?

He opened his mouth to say something to her but he never got the chance to speak because the night air was suddenly pierced by the shrill blast of a whistle, again and again, and a young man's voice raised in alarm. People looked around wildly. Rose jumped to her feet.

"Sentry," Solomon said, shifting the gun in his arms. "Must have seen something."

Around them other whistles began to blare as other sentries spotted things approaching. The black man who'd had his bread stolen earlier ran through the shacks and tents, hollering for his life. "They're here! They're here! I've seen them! Monsters! They're monsters!"

Whistles blared, voices cried out, and people emerged from their homes, grabbed weapons and ran towards the fires, while others ducked inside for safety.

The Doctor's expression was grim. "It's starting."

"WE'RE UNDER ATTACK!" Solomon bellowed. "EVERYONE TO ARMS!"

"Yeah, I'm ready boss! But all of you find a weapon! Use anything!" Frank shouted.

Men passed out guns. Pistols were procured from tents. Knives and switchblades were pulled from pockets and shoes. Tallulah and Martha grabbed sticks. Rose grabbed a poker from near a cauldron. Some people didn't even consider fighting and simply ran screaming for their lives.

"Come back!" Solomon called. "We've got to stick together! It's not safe out there! COME BACK!"

Between bodies moving every which way, the shouts of humans, and the squeals of the pigmen, it was complete and utter chaos. Calls of help went go up as the pigs began taking people. It was all Rose could do to make it back over to the Doctor's side, poker in one hand, and he latched onto her other hand.

The Doctor was strong, even if he didn't look it, superior Time Lord physiology and all that, plus he had the sonic. Rose could do plenty of damage with a poker. With that thick stick, she knew Martha would be able to brain any pig that tried to grab her, but Tallulah probably wouldn't even land a shot, or run fast enough in those heels. Okay, so her they would definitely have to worry about. What about the others? All these people with guns, they were more likely to kill each other than the pigs if things got too hectic, and it was way too cramped here.

The same thought seemed to occur to Martha. She grabbed the Doctor's arm. "We've got to get out of the park."

"We can't, they're on all sides," the Doctor said through his teeth. "They're driving everyone back towards us."

"We're trapped!" Tallulah cried, close to tears.

Solomon cocked his gun. "Then we stand together! Gather around! EVERYBODY, COME TO ME! You there, Jethro, Harry, Seamus, stay together! They can't take all of us!"

Everyone left that wasn't hiding was pressed into a tight group in the middle of the camp with the pigmen closing in on all sides. With a self-righteous yell, someone fired at a pigman. His aim was true and the mutant fell with a final squeal. The others started firing. Pigs fell, squealing their last, but where one fell another took its place. They just kept coming.

"If we can just hold them off till daylight," Martha reasoned. "Then other people will be in the park, like police; they can help."

The Doctor wasn't looking at her. He was looking over their heads at something in the sky. "Oh, Martha, they're just the foot soldiers."

Rose followed his gaze and gasped. A single Dalek approached them from above, flying down from the sky like the demon of space it was. People heard the humming, or perhaps saw it in their peripheral vision, and they looked up in horror at their approaching doom.

"Oh my God!" Martha's voice shook.

The Dalek hovered just a few yards above their heads and looked down at them through its blue-lit eyestalk.

"What in this world?" Solomon exclaimed.

"It's the devil! A devil in the sky! God save us all! It's damnation!"

"Oh yeah? We'll see about that." Frank aimed his gun and fired straight at the Dalek. The bullet hit home but rebounded off the Dalek's armor harmlessly.

Letting go of Rose's hand, the Doctor lunged forward. "That's not gonna work!" he grated and pushed Frank's gun down before the Dalek could figure out who'd fired.

Another Dalek appeared in the sky and drifted down towards the first. Martha felt the need to quietly point it out in case they hadn't noticed. The Daleks were still for a moment, then the one on the right fired and they dived down. They circled back around, each flying the opposite way, firing shot after shot at the people below. Everywhere they hit blew up, again and again, and people screamed as they tried to run, only to be blasted away. The people in the center ducked or just dropped to the ground, hoping to avoid getting hit, Rose included, and she felt Martha grip her arm so tightly that she knew she would have a bruise.

The TARDIS screamed, her song thundering in Rose's ears, and her anger and rage rising up from the place they were linked, melding with Rose's own emotions, coursing through her veins like fire. If the TARDIS weren't so far away, she would run straight in and look into her Heart. In theory she could probably summon the TARDIS to her with the huon energy they shared, but she wasn't sure to do it on her own and definitely not with so little time.

Though she had to wonder why they hadn't actually killed anyone. She knew Daleks had remarkable aim; a fleeing human was no harder to hit than the broad side of a barn. Yet they simply blew things up, sent people flying. Only scaring them, not killing.

"LEAVE THEM ALONE!" the Doctor roared. "THE'VE DONE NOTHING TO YOU!"

The one above them lowered its eyestalk to the Doctor and all at once, the Daleks halted their assault.

_Of course,_ Rose realized. _They were trying to draw him out._

People slowly rose and straightened up, sensing the reprieve. Around them were the cries of the wounded, and the terrified whimpering of the unharmed. Adjusting his grip on the gun, Solomon started forward with his eyes on the demon in the sky.

"No!" the Doctor grabbed him by the arm. "Solomon, stay back!"

Solomon ignored him. "I'm told that…I'm addressing the Daleks, is that right?"

The other Dalek joined the first one, floating over their heads. They looked down at him but didn't respond. Perhaps they were intrigued or perhaps they just were waiting for an opportune moment to strike him down. Maybe they had yet to actually attack anyone directly was because they wanted the first kill to be that of the leader.

"From what I hear, you're outcasts, too."

"Solomon, don't!"

"Doctor, this is my township. You will respect my authority. Just let me try," he added more quietly, pushing the Doctor away. The Time Lord shook his head as he backed away, knowing what was going to happen and praying that it didn't.

Solomon took a few steps forward, spreading out his arms in surrender—or welcome? "Daleks…ain't we the same? Underneath, ain't we all kin?" He lowered his gun to the ground and straightened up.

"Because, you see, I've just discovered this past day God's universe is a thousand times the size I thought it was. And that scares me. Oh, yeah, terrifies me. Right down to the bone." The Daleks honestly seemed to be listening to him, though the chances they were suddenly having an epiphany were slim to none.

"But surely, it's got to give me hope. Hope that, maybe together, we can make a better tomorrow. So I beg you now—if you have any compassion in your hearts, then you'll meet with us and stop this fight."

The Daleks looked at each other and everyone else looked at the Daleks, and all of them waiting.

"Well? What do you say?"

"EXTERMINATE!" was the reply and the Dalek fired at Solomon.

For a moment his body was illuminated in the greenish-blue light and they saw his entire skeleton. He cried out in agony and fell to his knees and even though she'd known it was coming, Rose screamed right along with everyone else as Solomon collapsed to the ground.

"NO! Solomon!" Frank cried, rushing towards the elder's body.

Next thing she knew, the Doctor was standing in front of Solomon's body with his arms spread wide and screaming at the Daleks. "Enough! If it'll stop you attacking them, then take me instead!"

Rose and Martha gasped and the crowd behind them fell silent.

"I WILL BE THE DESTROYER OF OUR GREATEST ENEMY!" If Daleks could feel excitement, that one would probably be doing backflips.

"NO!" Rose screamed and before Martha or anyone could reach out to stop her, she threw herself in front of the Doctor, her arms wide, and wishing she was taller so her body could shield his the way he could shield her. Her entire body felt hot and her eyes glowed. It was like someone had flipped a switch in her mind and she _knew_ what to do and how to do it. Because it was the Daleks and the Bad Wolf only existed in the first place to protect her Doctor from them.

"Rose, what are you—" the Doctor seized her arms to push her out of the way—

"EXTERMINATE!"

—and she was just a microsecond second from pulling the TARDIS to her when the Dalek spoke again.

"I DO NOT UNDERSTAND. IT IS THE DOCTOR!"

The Dalek paused, listening to something none of them could hear. The Doctor's grip did not loosen, but he had stopped trying to move her.

"AND THE FEMALE? …BUT SHE DESTROYED THE EMPEROR."

Upon hearing those words, the Doctor shoved Rose behind him firmly.

"THE URGE TO KILL IS TOO STRONG."

She struggled against his hold on her. His arm was twisted behind him at an awkward angle and she probably would've gotten free, but the Dalek spoke again.

"I…OBEY."

"What's going on?!" the Doctor demanded.

"…THE DOCTOR WILL FOLLOW!"

"NO!" Rose shouted again, grabbing onto his coat. More quietly, "You can't go. You _can't_."

He turned around, adjusting his grip so he was holding her forearms. He looked into her eyes—he hadn't seen them this bright this since he'd turned on the particles in the lab. The energy within her was awake and his sensed the power of Time teeming beneath the surface. Whatever link remained to the Bad Wolf was alive and he had the horrible suspicion that if things didn't calm down immediately, the Daleks would soon be evaporating into golden dust. Not that he was opposed to the idea, but it also meant that Rose would be the Bad Wolf once more. Which meant he had to get them away from her before she got herself killed.

He spoke softly, urgently, "I've got to go. The Daleks just changed their minds. They _never _do that."

"Yes, they do," she whispered.

"Not _pure_ Daleks, but Daleks who are being influenced by something human can. There might still be a chance for me to save these people."

Rose shook her head, tears in her eyes. "You don't have to." She gripped his arm with her free hand just as he gripped hers. "I can bring the TARDIS here. We're ready. We can stop them."

"No," he said firmly. "You are not dying for me, Rose Tyler. Stay here and calm down before you end up killing yourself."

She bit back a sob. "And what's to stop them from killin' us the moment you're gone?"

The Doctor swallowed then glanced up at the terrified people of Hooverville, at Tallulah, at Martha, then back Rose again for a moment longer. He turned his body and shouted up at the Daleks. "One condition! If I come with you, you spare the lives of _everyone_ here_!_ DO YOU HEAR ME?!"

"…HUMANS WILL BE SPARED. DOCTOR…FOLLOW."

Rose blinked the tears away and squared her shoulders. "I'm coming with you."

"No, Rose," he said resolutely. "They won't kill you if you're here. Stay here, calm down, and help Martha. These people are injured and they'll need help. I'll come back."

"And what if you don't?" With the Daleks she really had to consider the possibility that he might _not_ come up with a clever way to save the day and come back to them. Come back to her.

"Then you get out of here, you get back to the TARDIS, and you go back with Martha. There're protocols that will automatically activate if I die." Not that he had any plans of things coming to that. He had to go but he would come back. Though, just in case he didn't…

Before she could object again, the Doctor leaned forward and kissed her. His lips were tender on hers, but they trembled, and there was an underlying urgency in the kiss that betrayed his fear. With the hand that wasn't firmly clutching at the poker, she gripped the back of his head and pulled him even closer, returning his kiss fiercely. If he was going to die then, dammit, she was going to make this count.

"DOCTOR. FOLLOW."

The Dalek's harsh words caused them to break apart and they were both breathing heavier than normal. She moved her hand to his cheek and swallowed. The words were right on the tip of her tongue, because if he was going to die, he had to know. "I…Doctor, I—"

His hand slipped from her neck and covered her lips before she could say the words. "Don't," he said, his eyes dark and reflecting the emotions she knew were in her own.

He slid his hand to her shoulder, and down her empty hand. He grasped it in both of hers and she felt something press into her palm. With a wink, he stepped away from her. Their eyes lingered on each other for a moment more then he turned and followed the Daleks out of Hooverville. The urge to scream, to run after him, or to go through with it and call the TARDIS to her, was almost unbearable. She resisted. Somehow.

When he was out of sight and the hum of the Dalek's machinery faded, Rose finally looked down at what he'd given her. It was the psychic paper. She opened it, half expecting to see a message, maybe some sort of hint to his plan, but it was completely blank. What was it then? Something to remember him by like that kiss?

_Useless, completely useless, _she whimpered. The poker slipped from her fingers, hitting the ground near Solomon's body with a thud, and she let out a sob. She had to let it out or she was going to self-combust. She clutched the psychic paper to her chest and pressed a fist to her mouth to avoid screaming her frustration to the universe.

She should've just called the TARDIS when she had the chance. The fire in her blood was already dying and while the ship still hummed angrily in her mind, the song was fading away fast. Even she was respecting the Doctor's wishes and letting him go by pulling back from Rose.

She felt a hand on her shoulder and Martha stepped into view. She pulled Rose into a hug and patted her back. "It'll be okay," she whispered.

Another sob bubbled up past Rose's lips then she took a deep, shuddering breath and forced herself to calm down. She couldn't go to pieces—she would save that for later if things went pear-shaped. Right now she was standing in front of most of the survivors of the attack, next to Solomon's dead body, and one of the only people who had any idea of what was really going on here. With another deep breath, Rose stepped out of Martha's hug.

"People are hurt. We gotta help them." Rose's voice was surprisingly level and steely. "That's what he said to do."

"Um, maybe you ought to just sit down for a bit." Martha suggested.

"I'm fine."

"No, I mean, if you try to help people right now you'll probably scare them half to death." She tapped the spot just under her eye and lifted her eyebrows pointedly.

"Oh. Still?"

"Yeah, just a bit."

Rose thought about it for a tick and then shook her head. "It was different this time. I don't know how long it's gonna take for everything to cool down and 'm not just gonna sit around and wait. They can get over it."

She tucked the psychic paper in her pocket and turned to the crowd. "Right! Everyone listen up! The Doctor's bought us some time, but don't think for a second that we're out of this yet. I don't expect the Daleks to honor their words. Solomon tried to trust them and you saw what happened to him. Now, there's people hurt, and trapped, and there's probably more dead here besides Solomon. Everyone who isn't hurt should help! We need to get these fires put out, look for survivors, and someone needs to take care of any bodies we find."

"I'm a doctor!" Martha spoke up. "If anyone's hurt, come to me. Does any one have any medical supplies? A place I can work?"

The people got to it. Sentries went back to their posts and scouts went out in pairs, each armed with loaded guns, to look for any survivors outside of the town. The pigs that hadn't fled due to injuries were put down and Martha had ushered Tallulah away when the blonde woman looked like she was about to sick up. A gunshot split through the night air and, fearing attack, everyone had rushed to arms, until a scout group returned hauling the carcass of a pigman they'd found dying not far outside of camp.

They carried away Solomon's body to deal with later and soon the bodies of four others who hadn't survived the assault joined his. They sorted through the ruins of the shacks and tents, pulling out people that had been trapped beneath. The survivors were taken to Martha.

She had been given a tent to work under near the fire, plus an oil lamp for light. Several shirts were donated that were then cut into strips and one woman had some actual bandages she gave Martha, along with some penicillin, a man supplied some rags and a bar of soap for cleaning wounds, a child ran up with some pain medicine her mum had told her to bring, and another woman gave her a needle and some thread in case anyone needed stitches. It was beyond crude, but all these people were poor and hopeless, it wasn't like they had spare packs of suture. If anyone needed stitches it would have to do, though she would wash the thread in boiling water first. Tallulah was told to see to getting water boiled.

Since her eyes were still amber, Rose remained in the tent with Martha. Tallulah brought them boiled water in whatever she could find—kettles and pots mostly. She used up an entire pot just to wash off the rags they would use to clean the cuts. She stepped out once the line got to be long and started screening people. She realized almost immediately that some of the people in line hadn't been injured, but rather were there about older injuries or ailments, taking advantage of the free medical services being offered.

The ones with the most severe wounds were sent to the head of the line to be dealt with first. The others she told to start a new line and she would take care of them. She cleaned cuts and once or twice asked Martha whether or not they needed stitches—thankfully they didn't and she was able to just send them along with a wrap. Rose held off on treating the next person when one man was set down in the chair and the wound on his leg was deemed severe enough for stitches. So she scalded the spool of thread and Martha gave him pain medicine, then she held his hand as Martha stitched his leg shut.

Once the worst wounds were dealt with, Martha started working from Rose's line. Near the end of the group, Rose ended up treating a little girl of about seven with messy red pigtails and a burn on her right hand. There was nothing they could do except clean it. Tallulah brought her another kettle of water and Rose talked to her while they waited for it to cool.

"What's your name, then?"

"Clara Mercy O'Caroll," she replied promptly with just a hint of a southern accent. "Who are you? I ain't never seen you before."

"My name's Rose Tyler, and we're just passin' through."

"You talk funny."

"Do I?" Rose arched her eyebrow.

"Yeah. You say words wrong."

"Well, to me, you say the words wrong." She smiled and the little girl giggled.

"Your eyes are funny, too."

"Yeah, s'pose they are," Rose murmured and touched just below her eye.

"How come?"

"The Daleks—those metal things in the sky—I've dealt with 'em before. This is because of that."

Clara blinked at her. "What happened?"

"Did you see the man that left with them? They hate him and they were trying to kill him. So I stopped them."

"But why did they attack us? Did we do something wrong?"

"No, sweetheart, no," Rose said. She touched the little girl's good hand. "It's no one's fault. That's just what they do. But you don't have to worry, 'cos the Doctor's gonna stop them. He's not gonna let them hurt you and neither am I. I promise."

The little girl nodded. Rose wasn't sure if she believed her (she didn't completely believe herself) but it was all she could do. She tested the water and decided it was cool enough and told the little girl to put her burned hand in.

Clara looked down at her hand and seemed to be considering something. "Them…Daleks—" she glanced up to make sure she got the word right "—they came from the sky. Is that where they live?"

Well, there was no point in terrifying the girl of the sewers for the rest of her life. "Yes. Far, far out in the sky, beyond the stars you see. There's only four left alive anywhere and they're all here in New York. As soon as they're gone, there won't be any left, and you never will have to be afraid of them again."

"Is there lots of bad things in the sky?"

"Yes, but also lots of good things, too, and trust me, the good things outweigh the bad. Now, come on, let's get your hand wrapped so you can go find your mum." She pulled the burned hand out of the water and gently patted it dry, then wrapped it in a bandage.

"Sweetheart," Martha said. "Tell your mum to treat that as she would any other burn, alright? Then you're good to go. Try and not use it so much for a week."

"Okay," Clara said, hopping out of the chair. "You gonna get them Daleks, right?"

"Yeah, we'll get 'em." Rose smiled tightly. "Now get on back to your mum—and remember, don't tell anyone what I told you."

She nodded and scurried out of the tent, around the fire pit, and on her way.

When the last patient was seen to and gone, Rose slumped forward onto the table, feeling utterly exhausted. Tallulah brought in another pot of water and seemed almost surprised that the line of people had all gone. Martha thanked her.

Tallulah folded her arms and leaned against the wall. "So what about us? What do we do now?"

"I don't know. I honestly have no idea. Rose, did he say anything?"

Rose stared at the wood in front of her and licked her lips. "No."

"Great. So then we're just supposed to sit here and—"

"But he did give me this." Rose pulled the psychic paper from her pocket and held it up for them to see.

Martha bit her lip thoughtfully. "Well, he must've had a reason."

"Yeah, s'pose he did, but what? Where are we supposed to go? I've got nothing."

"What's that for?" Tallulah nodded to the paper.

Rose opened the psychic paper and held it out. Tallulah looked down at it with interest.

"'Dame Rose Tyler of the Powell Estate'," she read. "Well, ain't that fancy."

"It basically means I'm a knight. Now read what it says."

"'Free admission to—' Hang on! It's changed! How'd you do that?"

"The paper's slightly psychic," Rose explained. "It shows the reader whatever the user wants it to. Or whatever you expect to see. We use it for gettin' into places, gettin' people to trust us."

Tallulah's eyebrows shot towards her hairline and her voice went up an octave. "Are you from the government or something?"

Rose and Martha laughed but their mirth didn't last long. "No." Martha shook her head. "But the Doctor—he knows we won't just sit around and if he gave you that, then he must want us to go somewhere, but beyond that, I…" she exhaled sharply. "Rose?"

"I don't know," she said quietly and put her face in her hands.

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**Oh, hai Bad Wolf. **

**Y'all should review. Y'know, because you just got a chapter 3 days ago and here's another.**


	22. Gamma Strike

**Giving you all another chapter insanely early becAUSE OMFG DAVID AND BILLIE ARE GOING TO BE IN THE 50TH ANNIVERSARY SPECIAL. THE BBC HAS SAID SO. THE DOCTOR WHO TUMBLR HAS SAID SO.**

**TEN AND ROSE ARE COMING BACK. THIS IS NOT A DRILL I REPEAT: _THIS IS NOT A DRILL._**

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In the end it was Martha that figured out where they needed to go, with a little help from Frank, of course. The Empire State building. Of course the Daleks would use the biggest, most famous building in the city as their base. It was so super villain-esque that it was funny. With this new revelation, assuming they failed to stop the Daleks, none of them would be surprised if the first thing they did was to stick a giant eyestalk into the forehead of the Statue of Liberty. Or maybe they'd blast her down and build a giant Dalek monument in its place. Super villains did those kinds of things.

They exchanged theories about it on the walk to the Empire State. Frank was convinced that if they messed with the Statue of Liberty, then they would have Mount Rushmore (still a work in progress) finished to resemble Daleks as well.

It was completely ridiculous, discussing the enemy's possible victory plans, but any distraction was welcome. About ten minutes after they left Central Park a man started following them. He was totally sloshed, it was obvious from the moment he opened his mouth, but they'd all had experience with drunks. They were content to just ignore him until he calling Frank names and insinuating things that made the poor Tennessean boy's ears turn pink. Rose ended up threatening to knock the man cold if he didn't leave them alone and something in her expression (or maybe it was her eyes, not golden anymore but still not quite brown) made him back off. Still, having a drunk bloke questioning their virtues was better than thinking about the Doctor with the Daleks, Laszlo as one of the pig slaves, and Solomon as a corpse back at Hooverville.

When they arrived, there were two armed security guards stationed in the lobby. Rose didn't hesitate, whipping the psychic paper out of her pocket, and flashed it at them.

"Rose Tyler, Martha Jones, Tallulah Angel, and Frank Parker," she said promptly. "Architects and engineers. We were called in to inspect the progress."

The man looked down at the paper, then up at the four of them. He nodded after a moment, told them where the service elevator was, then sent them on their way.

"Frank Parker?" Frank muttered when they were out of earshot.

"What? You live in the park. Give me a break, I had to think of names on the spot." Rose protested.

Riding up a hundred floors was slow enough in an elevator in the 21st century, never mind a1930s service one. At the rate they ascended, they may as well have walked. Martha insisted they go to the top where there was still work being done. If the Daleks were going to install an energy conductor they'd want to be as high as possible, and inconspicuous. Bit odd to put something new in a finished floor, but not in a floor that's still in progress. Three minutes and several ear-poppings later, the lift stopped and the four bored passengers stepped gratefully onto the hundredth floor.

Tallulah gasped. "Look at this place. Top of the world!"

She and Frank gazed around, completely taken by the vast room they were standing in, and they weren't even looking out the window yet. Rose had been in the building before in the year 2020. She'd been impressed then. Right now? Not so much.

"Okay, now, this looks good." Martha strode over stacks of building plans resting on an easel. Frank and Rose joined her and peered at the papers.

Rose bit her lip, tucking her hair behind her ear. It might help if she knew anything about architecture.

Frank tapped his finger on the top sheet. "Hey, look at the date. These designs were issued today. They must've changed something last minute."

Martha lifted the sheet and looked at the one below. "Do you think it was the Daleks?"

"Yeah, could be."

"The energy conductor?" Rose suggested. "I doubt the original designs would've included that."

"Then, if these are the ones before, then we need to check them against the other. If we see something different then that's gotta be it."

"Right." Frank reached for the clasp holding the papers together.

"The height of this place!" Tallulah exclaimed from near the window. "This is amazing!"

"Careful," Martha cautioned. "We're a hundred floors up. Don't go wondering off."

"I just want to see." She waved off her concerns and drifted towards the open space where the wall hadn't been finished.

Rose didn't look up from the plans. "Just let her go."

She lifted the top stack off the ease and set them on the ground. Martha brought down the old plans and they spread them out side by side and went to pouring over them. Frank went to stand watch in case any one—humans or pigmen or worse, Daleks—came sniffing about.

"There's a hell of a storm movin' in." Tallulah said from behind them.

"Do you know what we're looking for?" Martha asked Rose.

She shook her head. "Nope."

"Great. Wish the Doctor were here. Oh, sorry," she added quickly

Rose dismissed her apology with a shake of her head. "Don't waste time trippin' over your words. I'm fine. But you're right. He'd know."

She ran her fingers through her hair, unconsciously mirroring the Doctor's nervous habit, a motion that did not escape Martha's notice. Despite the situation, it brought a grin to her face.

"So tell me…where did you first hook up?" Tallulah asked. "You and the Doctor."

"Oh, at my old job in London. An alien was controlling all the shop window dummies and they nearly killed me. He showed up and saved me. We've been together ever since."

"What about you, Martha? How'd you meet them?"

"In a hospital."

"'Course—him being a doctor." She slapped her knees and knelt down next to Rose.

"Actually, I'm the doctor." Martha said, lifting one of the sheets. "Well, kind of."

"So you're really a physician?"

"I was training. Still am, whenever I go back."

Rose smiled. "Didn't you realize she was a doctor earlier in Hooverville? All those people she helped."

"You helped, too. I thought he just taught you a bit of medicine or somethin'."

"He did, yeah, and I've had plenty of practice over the years," Rose said. "I know enough to help, but that's about it."

"Well, at least you can actually do something." Tallulah sighed in frustration. "All I could do was boil water. Look at you two. You work together so easily. You're a doctor and you fight aliens. And you've got yourself a nice guy."

"So do you."

"Yeah, and I should be down there, lookin' for him. Not a hundred stories in the air watching you two sort through papers."

"Hey, if the Doctor's down there with Laszlo, there's every chance that he could get him out." Martha assured her. "I've seen him pull off some amazing rescues."

"And then what?" Tallulah asked, shaking her head. "Don't talk crazy. There's no future for me and him. Those…_Dalek _things. The one good thing I had in my life and they destroyed it." Her voice broke on the last word. She stood up and walked away from them towards the open area again.

"Yeah," Rose murmured. "Daleks are good for that."

She lifted the full building sheet away and set it aside. They looked down at the schematics of topmost part of the building. They must've noticed the differences at the exact same moment because Martha let out a small, "ah-ha!" just as Rose opened her mouth to do the same.

Tallulah knelt down next to them again. Martha pointed at the tiny additions to the pole. "There, on the mast, those little lines? They're new. They've added something, see?"

"Added what?" Tallulah asked.

"The Dalekanium!" Rose hissed triumphantly.

They called Frank back in to help them gather up the papers. They rolled up the useless ones and set them aside and put the two up close schematics of the mast side by side on the easel. Outside, the thunder rumbled ominously and the air began to tingle with electricity, a sign of the coming storm. The wind that drifted into the room smelled like rain. Rose shivered beneath her jacket.

The main lift dinged and Rose turned. The doors opened revealing the Doctor with one hand on Laszlo's shoulder. The half-pigman was leaning heavily against the side of the lift, looking miserable.

"Doctor!" she cried.

"First floor, perfumery," he said lightly.

Tallulah and Laszlo ran for each other.

Rose didn't even know her legs were moving until she was halfway towards him. The Doctor stepped out of the lift and caught her in his arms, she threw her own around him, and he hoisted her off the ground. One of her hands gripped the back of his neck, and she buried her face in the fabric of his suit. He murmured something unintelligible near her ear as he set her back on her feet. She smiled, holding him as tightly as she could for a moment longer, then drew back and stared right into his eyes.

He kept his arms around her loosely and smiled. "Hello."

"Hello," she replied with a soft smile that never left her face, even as she went on. "Doctor, if you ever do something like that again, I swear, the next time I see you, you will be regenerating."

"Well, it all worked out, didn't it? We're here, and I know what they're planning."

"So do we!" She broke his grip and pulled him over to the easel. "Look, on the schematics, there's—"

Behind them, the lift dinged once in farewell as it was called elsewhere. "No, no, no!" the Doctor shouted and raced over to it. He pulled out the sonic screwdriver and shined it on the call button. "Argh! Deadlock seal." He smacked the wall and muttered a few words that the TARDIS did not translate.

"Where's it going?" Martha asked.

"Right back down to the Daleks, and they aren't going to leave us alone up here—what's the time?"

"Uh, 11:15," Frank said.

"Six minutes to go. Did you find the Dalekanium?" He asked them.

"Look, right here," Martha pointed to the schematics. The Doctor crossed the room and looked where she was pointing. "See these two lines? They're the only things not on the old plans. Got to be the Dalekanium, right?"

"Right up on the mast," he murmured. "I've got to get them off before the gamma radiation hits."

"'Gamman' radiation?" Tallulah, still in Laszlo's arms, made a face. "What the heck is that?"

The Doctor ignored her and sprinted across the room to the open area. He grabbed onto the beam over his head and looked down at the city of New York below them. Rose did, instantly regretting it, and her stomach did a weird little flip. She shook her head, feeling the blood leave her head, and backed away from the edge as the world spun.

"Oh, that's high," the Doctor observed. "That's very—blimey that's high."

"And we've got to go even higher." Martha said. She turned around, grabbing hold of a ladder, and nodded upwards. "That's the mast up there, look. There's three pieces of Dalekanium on the base of the mast. We've got to get them off."

"That's not 'we.'" he turned. "That's just me."

"We're not just going to stand here and watch you!" Martha protested.

"Actually, I don't think I'm going to watch at all." Rose's arms tightened on the beam she was currently clinging to for dear life. "Sorry, it's just…really, _really_ high and—"

"No, it's alright," the Doctor said. "You're going to be busy down here, anyway. I'm sorry, but you've all got to fight. I'll see you when I get back. Whatever you do, _don't_ let them follow me." He looked between the five of them, lingering on Rose for a moment longer, then scurried up the ladder like a squirrel.

Rose took a deep breath and backed out of the open space completely. "Alright, we're…we're gonna need weapons. Preferably something that pierces Dalekanium and works more than once."

"Why did I leave that gun behind?" Frank muttered.

"Well, this is a construction sight. So there must be tools somewhere," Martha reasoned.

"Oh, over here! I saw 'em earlier." He loped across the room to several stack of crates near the lift. He removed the topmost lids and shouted once. "Yeah, here! C'mon, arm yourselves!"

He hefted a thick sledgehammer out of the crate and turned it over in his hands. Martha, Laszlo, and Tallulah rummaged through the tools for things heavy enough to cause damage that they could actually swing. Martha chose a metal pole that looked like some sort of screwdriver, Tallulah had a large wrench, and Laszlo had a hammer.

Rose shook her head at them. "Those won't work on Daleks. Their skin is almost impenetrable."

"Then we just have to hope they send up pigs," Martha said. Rose gritted her teeth and hefted a large ratchet out of a crate. They heard the lift whirl to life behind them and the little arrow above it began to track the lift's progress upward.

"Oh, here we go." Rose adjusted her grip.

"I should've brought that gun!" Frank said through his teeth.

"Tallulah, stay back!" Laszlo ordered. "You, too, Martha, Rose. If they send pig slaves, they're trained to kill!"

Tallulah shuffled back all-too willingly, but Rose and Martha held firm. "Like we can't handle a few pigs," Rose retorted contemptuously. Laszlo tried to push them back with his arm.

"The Doctor needs us to fight!" Martha said, pushing right back. "We're not going anywhere."

"No, but they're savages!" he shouted. "I should know. They're trained to slit your throat with their bare teeth."

Martha made a face and glanced at the arrow above the lift again.

Laszlo's breath came in heavy pants and his legs seem to give out beneath him. He dropped to the ground, catching himself on the column. Tallulah shrieked and dropped her wrench. "Laszlo! What is it?"

"No, it's nothing. I'm fine. Just leave me." He slumped against the column, his breath coming in laborious pants.

Tallulah felt his forehead with her hand. "Ooh, honey, you're burnin' up. What's wrong with you? Tell me."

Frank shook his head. "One man down. We ain't even started yet."

"It's not looking good," Martha agreed.

"Nope."

"Not how I wanted to die, getting killed by mutant pigs."

"I don't wanna die at all."

Thunder rumbled around them again. Her eyes fixed on the door, Rose didn't notice that Martha had turned around until she spoke again. "Wait a minute. Lightning!"

She dropped her weapon and ran towards the open area. "Rose, c'mon!"

"What's she doin'?" Frank demanded.

"Help me!" Martha shouted, struggling to lift a metal pole on her own.

_Imminent lightning strike, metal rods, approaching pigmen—oh!_

"Martha that's brilliant!" Rose cried elatedly and dropped the ratchet. "Come on, Frank!"

It was mad, so mad it would probably work. Frank and Martha carried the rods and Rose created a path for them with chairs and stands. Laszlo watched them blearily and Tallulah tried to soothe him. The thunder rumbled louder than ever and the air was positively humming with electricity.

"What the hell are you clowns doing?!" Tallulah shouted.

"Even if the Doctor stops the Dalekanium, this place is still gonna get hit." Martha explained quickly without stopping. "Great big bolt of lightning, electricity all down the building."

"We connect this to the lift and the pigs get cooked." Rose finished gleefully.

Tallulah smirked. "Oh, my God. That could work!"

Martha connected the metal chain to the lift with two smaller rods, one on either side, and Frank went to make sure the lightning would carry through. Rose made a quick trip up the line to make sure all the poles were touching as much as possible. The thunder rumbled again.

"Is that gonna work?" Tallulah asked.

"If not, well, at least you don't gotta worry about being turned into a Dalek." Rose said. She and Martha dropped down onto the ground next to Tallulah and Laszlo who was struggling just to stay upright with no support.

"I got it all piped up to the scaffolding outside." Frank pointed over his shoulder.

Martha reached for him. "Come here, Frank, just sit in the middle. And don't touch anything metal."

Frank gathered them all in his arms, like an older brother would protect his younger siblings, and they huddled in a heap on the ground. The wind blew harder and Laszlo's breathing was heavy in all their ears. Rose and Martha gripped each other's hands tightly and prayed that the Doctor was well out of the way when the strike hit. The elevator dinged, the doors opening to reveal at least half a dozen pigmen inside, snorting and looking around.

Martha gasped.

The sky flashed white and a single deafening boom seemed to shake the building. They all flinched away from the bright light suddenly racing along the metal line towards the lift. They gasped and the pigmens squealed in pain. Rose squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her face into Frank's shoulder. It seemed to last forever, though in reality it was probably only twenty seconds at most. When the light finally faded, they opened their eyes and curled out of their tight huddle, staring in shock at the bodies on the floor.

Martha scrambled to her feet and raced over to the lift, stopping just short of the metal pole. Rose, Tallulah, and Frank followed her. The elevator was completely fried and the pigmen appeared to be dead, their bodies smoking. She almost smiled for a moment. But then she thought of Laszlo behind her and her stomach twisted in guilt. He'd escaped before the Daleks had converted him, but these hadn't. They'd been human.

Frank laughed, shaking her shoulders and she felt even worse.

"You did it, Martha." Tallulah congratulated.

"They used to be like us," she said quietly. "I suppose that makes me a murderer now."

"Hey, come on, Martha, look at me." Rose rubbed her friend's arm. "They would've killed us. They didn't even remember being human."

"Exactly," Laszlo said from behind them. He was on his feet and that was something. "The Daleks killed them. Long ago."

"Oh my God, the Doctor!" Martha gasped suddenly, spinning around, and raced back to the open area. Rose lingered far enough back that she couldn't see over the side while Martha looked up through the opening at the mast.

"Do you see him?" Rose called.

"No!" she shook her head and gripped the ladder. "We gotta get up there."

Rose sucked in air through her teeth and strode towards the ladder purposefully. Martha looked at her questioningly but didn't protest. Laszlo was in no condition to climb so Tallulah waited behind with him. Frank followed the girls up the ladder.

Rose was once again grateful for her gymnastics skills, as well as the climbing skills she'd picked up after years with the Doctor. The ladder didn't go up very far and once there wasn't another ladder waiting for them.

_Don't look down, don't look down,_ she repeated the mantra in her head over and over. She kept her eyes trained firmly upward except when she had to check for a foot holding. Even that time she'd dangled from a barrage balloon she hadn't been this high.

Not that she was thinking about how high she was—about four hundred and thirty meters at this point—and that if she fell from here she would be dead before she hit the ground or she'd die on impact. No, she wasn't thinking about either of those things.

Not at all.

"Look!" Martha exclaimed suddenly, pointing at the base of the mast where a small, familiar object gleamed in the moonlight.

Rose made a strangled sound and lunged for it. She gripped the screwdriver tightly in her hands and looked up at the top of the mast, pushing her hair out of her face. She couldn't see him? Had he fallen? A fall from this high would kill him for sure.

_Please, please don't let him have fallen,_ she prayed and pocketed the screwdriver.

From here there were no more ladders and they had to use the construction beams to pull themselves, level by level, to the very top of the mast. Frank took the lead so he could help the girls up. By the time they reached the top of the mast five minutes later, their muscles were aching and sore.

When Frank pulled her up onto the final level, she looked around for her Time Lord and saw him on his back, dangerously close to the edge. "Doctor!" she shrieked and threw herself to her knees beside him.

"Oh, don't be dead. Please don't be dead." she whispered, checking for his pulse. She sighed in relief when she felt the double beat under her fingers. It wasn't as strong as it normally was, but it was definitely there. He was alive and still in this body, that was something. "Doctor, wake up!" she put her hands on his cheeks and turned his head towards her. "Come on, open your eyes. It's me. It's Rose."

He groaned, his face scrunching up in pain. "Owww, my head…"

She laughed breathlessly in relief and pressed a kiss to his lips. "Oh you stupid, bloody alien! What happened?"

He opened his eyes the tiniest bit and smiled at her. "Hello. You survived, then. Martha?"

"She's fine, she's right here. Frank, too. And Tallulah and Laszlo are down below." She pulled the sonic screwdriver out of her pocket. "I think you dropped this. You're so useless."

"Mmmm," he agreed, shutting his eyes again.

"Why were you out cold?" Rose asked.

"Um…"

"Doctor," Martha said loudly. "I couldn't help but notice that there's still Dalekanium attached over here."

His eyes flew open at that and he sat up with a grunt. "Oh, yeah. That's why."

Rose helped him to his feet and handed over the sonic. He ordered them to just leave the Dalekanium where it was—the deed had already been done and they didn't have much time. The trip back down took more than twice as long as it took to get up. Most of that was spent trying to descend from the mast, which was tricky enough without having to keep one hand on the Doctor at all times since he wasn't at one hundred percent yet. She had to let go once and there was a terrifying moment when he seemed to sway backwards. Once they got down to the ladders things went much more smoothly, but Frank and Rose always went down before him just in case.

Arriving on the hundredth floor, they found Laszlo leaning against the wall just beyond the open area and Tallulah pacing anxiously. "Oh, you're alright!" she exclaimed in relief. "I thought you must've fallen for sure!"

"No, we're all alright." the Doctor told her. "But we're not out of this yet. I couldn't stop the gamma strike—wait hang on, what's that smell?" He sniffed at the air and stepped inside. He stopped just before bumping into a rod and lifted his head, following the line all the way to the elevators. "Oooh," he made a face. "Nice one. Who's idea was that?"

"Mine."

"I've said it before and I'll say it again: Martha Jones, you are a star."

Even if she wasn't entirely proud of the act that had earned it, Martha still beamed at the praise.

"But we still have the little problem of an entire army of humans beneath us that have had their minds completely erased and replaced with Dalek ones."

"There's a _what_?" Rose yelped.

"Yeah," he turned around and walked back out into the open area and looked down at the city below them. "I dropped my screwdriver before I could get them all off. There wasn't time to go after it. So they now have a fully active army of over a thousand. The Daleks will have gone straight to a war footing. They'll be using the sewer system, spreading the soldiers out underneath the Manhattan."

"How do we stop them?" Laszlo asked.

"I could do it." Rose said just loud enough to be heard.

"No!" The Doctor glared down at her. "Don't even think about it. There's still a chance that there won't be a slaughter. I got in the way of the gamma strike—it went through me first."

"Yeah, but what does that mean?" Martha asked.

He didn't answer her. "We need to draw fire—before they can attack New York, I need to face them—where can I draw them out? Think, think, think, think, think." He muttered and rubbed his chin, then ran his fingers through his hair. "I need some sort of space—somewhere safe, somewhere out of the way. TALLULAH!" He spun around.

"That's me. Three L's and an 'H.'"

"The theater—it's right above them—and, what? It's gone midnight. Can you get us inside?"

"Don't see why not."

He spun around, but upon seeing the fried pigs he remembered that particular way down was out of the question. "Is there another lift?"

"We came up in the service elevator." Martha said and led the way.

"That'll do! Allons-y!"

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***gasps like a dying fish***

**Review. Yeah. Cuz. AIYEEEK.**


	23. Someone for Everyone

**Okay you guys XD If you didn't get the memo, the original post of this chapter was a dummy and an April Fool's prank. And, yes, I know, I am a rude sadistic evil meanie little shit buttface (such a variety of adjectives, you guys) but I am NOT SORRY! :D And you can thank A Who Down in Whoville for it as well. (I see you, girl.)**

**Anyway, the beginning of this chapter is identical to the one you saw in the April Fools, up until the Dalek-Humans are ordered to shoot. So, if you'd like to just skip down to there, feel free. Or not. **

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"There ain't nothing more creepy than a theater in the dark." Tallulah muttered disdainfully.

Rose had to disagree.

Caves, the Sanctuary Base, the basement of the Torchwood Estate, the TARDIS that one time all the lights went out, the forest on Lua, the hospital during World War II, a cornfield maze, and several abandoned warehouses—now those places had been creepy in the dark, and rightfully so, too, as all of them had been occupied by one or more monsters or homicidal aliens. A dark theater ranked somewhere with a dark museum, a dark library, and Henricks after hours in terms of creepy. Still, it was freezing in there, and she knew that in a few minutes it would be filled with Dalek-humans, or possibly the Daleks themselves.

Laszlo groaned and slumped down into one of the chairs. Tallulah sat down next to him and they murmured to each other for a moment. "Doctor," the showgirl asked, "what's wrong with him?"

The Doctor was standing on the armrests of a seat, fiddling with his sonic, trying to find the right setting. "Not now, Tallulah. Sorry."

"What are you doing?" Martha asked.

The sonic screwdriver started to blip steadily and the Doctor lifted it high into the air. "If the Daleks are going to war, they'll want to find their number-one enemy," he explained. "I'm just telling them where I am."

"Well, that's just mad." Martha said. "Do you want them to kill you?"

"Better me than the entire planet," he told her. "You know what happens if they take over the planet now, don't you?"

"No."

"You two probably will never be born. That alone is enough to blow a sizeable whole in the universe. Time is _fragile_, Martha. If you saw it the way I do you would understand. All of time could unravel if we don't stop them now."

"Oh," she exhaled loudly. "Okay. No pressure."

"What are you even talkin' about?" Frank demanded. "You're making no sense."

The Doctor waved him off. "Time is complicated. They'll be here any minute," he told his two companions. "You all need to leave."

"No," Rose said instantly.

"Rose—"

"No! We are not doing this again!"

"Martha, make her go."

"No," Martha replied. "I'm not making her do anything."

"You stay here and you could get killed."

"And what the hell would we do if you died, Doctor? Go back home, get on with our lives like this never happened?" Rose folded her arms determinedly. "I don't know if you've forgotten, but I don't have a home to go back to. I'm. Staying."

Martha nodded in agreement. "Me too."

He exhaled angrily and glared down at his two companions, who glared resolutely right back at him. "I'm telling you to go," the Doctor barked, jumping down. "Frank can take you back to Hooverville."

"And I'm telling you I'm not going!" Martha retorted. "'Rule two: always do what the Doctor says—unless it'll involves him dying, then ignore him.' This is me ignoring you."

"Martha—"

The doors at the back of the theater slammed open, the light streaming in along with the sound of many footsteps marching in sync. The six of them watched in horror as, one by one, the Dalek-humans filed into the room. There were men and women, white, black, Asian, Hispanic, all of them armed with tommy guns fitted with Dalek blasters instead of barrels.

"Doctor! Oh my God!" Tallulah pulled Laszlo from the chair and they all backed into a group in the middle of the isle. "Well, I guess that's them, then, huh?"

"Humans," Martha muttered. "With Dalek DNA?"

Frank started towards one of them—perhaps he recognized him from Hooverville—but the Doctor held him back. "It's alright. All right? Just stay calm. Don't antagonize them."

"But what of the Dalek Masters?" Laszlo asked. "Where are they?"

"I dunno," the Doctor murmured.

Rose combed the theater with her eyes for any sign of a pure Dalek, or even Dalek Sec. A flash of metal or the blue gleam of an eyestalk—but except for the hybrids, they were alone.

Then the stage exploded in a flash of light and they all shrieked, ducking reflexively.

Slowly, carefully she lifted her head just enough that she could peek over the backs of the seats in front of her. Two Daleks rolled onto stage, their heads rotating back and forth, no doubt searching for them. Between them, Dalek Sec crawled weakly on his hands and knees with a shackle around his neck, chained to the one on the right.

She frowned. Wasn't he supposed to be the leader?

Her first Dalek had committed suicide for being even the slightest bit human. It was entirely possible they'd committed mutiny against their leader once he took on human DNA.

The Doctor slowly emerged from behind the chairs just before one of the Daleks ordered: "THE DOCTOR WILL STAND BEFORE THE DALEKS."

Everyone but Tallulah, who peered carefully over the chairs, was on their feet. When the Doctor lifted his leg to climb on top of the seat in front of him, Rose reached out and caught his arm. He looked back at her wordlessly and his eyes flicked over her head for just a moment and he pulled out of her grip. _Trust me,_ he mouthed and climbed up and over the seat. She felt Frank's hands on her arms, holding firmly and she gritted her teeth in frustration. Like he'd be able to stop her.

The Doctor walked across the tops of the seats and stopped on the second row, balancing on the arm rests.

"YOU WILL DIE, DOCTOR. IT'S THE BEGINNING OF A NEW AGE."

"PLANET EARTH WILL BECOME NEW SKARO."

"Oh, and what a world. With anything just the _slightest_ bit different ground into the dirt. That's Dalek Sec." He pointed at the disgraced figure between them who was watching the scene unfold silently. "Don't you remember? The cleverest Dalek ever and look what you've done to him. Is that your new empire? Hmm? Is that the foundation for a whole new civilization?"

His words seemed to have stirred something in Dalek Sec. He blinked quickly and leaned forward. "My Daleks…just understand this. If you choose death and destruction, then death and destruction will choose you."

Rose's jaw dropped. Talk about an epiphany. Whoever's body Sec had taken over, his genes must've done a serious number on the Dalek. Even her Dalek hadn't expressed that sort of sentiment.

"INCORRECT. WE ALWAYS SURVIVE."

"NOW WE DESTROY OUR GREATEST ENEMY: THE DOCTOR."

"But he can help you."

"THE DOCTOR MUST DIE!"

"No," Sec started to crawl in front of the one who'd spoken. "I beg you, don't!"

"EXTERMINATE!"

With a grunt, Sec lifted himself off the ground and intercepted the ray intended for the Doctor. He screamed and pain, finally knowing for the first and last time the pain he'd once inflicted upon others. Everyone flinched away from the light and his screams, except for the Dalek-humans who remained immobile and emotionless. Sec fell to the ground, dead.

"Your own leader." the Doctor said in disgust. "The only creature who might have led you out of the darkness and you destroyed him." He turned to the Dalek-humans and spoke quieter, almost as if prompting them. "Do you see what they did? Huh? You see what a Dalek really is?"

They didn't respond, but Rose thought she might've seen the barest hint of disgust ripple across their faces before settling back into the stoic mask.

"If I'm going to die, let's give the new boys a shot. What do you think, eh? The Dalek-humans, their first blood."

The Dalek on the right lifted his eyestalk up and down, like it was considering him.

"Go on," the Doctor invited, spreading his arms out wide. "Baptize them!"

Rose strained against Frank's grip but he held firm, surprisingly strong for such a skinny thing.

"DALEK-HUMANS, TAKE AIM!"

Moving as one, Dalek-humans lifted their guns, cocked them, and pointed them at the Doctor. Laszlo, Tallulah, Martha, Rose, and Frank huddled tightly together. The two men seemed to be ready to shield the women with their bodies and, briefly, Rose wondered if the effect of a Dalek's ray could be spread through contact.

"What are you waiting for? Give the command!" the Doctor challenged.

"EXTERMINATE!"

Martha whimpered and Rose gasped and they all flinched, waiting for the buzzing of Dalek death-rays that would mean the Doctor's end, and probably theirs as well.

Rose's eyes never left the Doctor.

One second passed, then two…and nothing happened. The Dalek-humans remained poised to fire, but they did not shoot.

"EXTERMINATE."

Rose looked between the two lines of hybrids. Not a single one of them moved. Not so much as a twitch.

"OBEY! DALEK-HUMANS WILL OBEY."

Still, they did not move.

"They're not firing," Martha noted quietly.

"Brilliant deduction, Sherlock," Rose said through her teeth.

The medical student ignored her. "What have you done?" she demanded. The Doctor didn't answer.

The Dalek seemed to be getting annoyed now. "YOU WILL OBEY! EXTERMINATE."

The man at the front asked, "Why?" And Rose felt her first true glimmer of hope all night.

The Dalek spun its eyestalk towards him. "DALEKS DO NOT QUESTION ORDERS."

"But why?"

"YOU WILL STOP THIS."

"But…why?" he looked at the Time Lord, still standing on the chairs, watching him.

"YOU MUST NOT QUESTION."

He looked back at the Dalek and said, "But you are not our master, and we—we are not Daleks."

"No you're not," the Doctor agreed quietly. "And you never will be. Sorry," he told the Daleks unapologetically. "I got in the way of the lightning strike. Time Lord DNA got all mixed up. Just that little bit of freedom."

"IF THEY WILL NOT OBEY, THEN THEY MUST DIE." With that, it fired at the man who'd spoken.

"GET DOWN!" the Doctor screamed, jumping down. They dropped to the ground, pressing themselves as low as they could go.

Before the man had even properly died, the Dalek-humans turned their guns on the pure Daleks and opened fire. The Daleks shouted and fired back at their rebellious troops. The hybrids screamed as they were shot, but the others didn't falter.

"EXTERMI—"

BANG! It exploded. One down.

"EXTERMINATE!" BANG and down went the other.

The Dalek-humans ceased fire and lowered their guns. The Doctor was on his feet quickly, moving to soothe the nearest hybrid. His companions slowly climbed to their feet and looked around at the survivors.

"Saved by a Dalek-hybrid," Rose muttered, looking at the smoking shells on stage "That's a new one."

The Doctor must've heard her because he turned and grinned, half proud, half relieved. A moment later, his delight vanished. The Dalek-humans started to scream in agony, their hands flying to their heads. The Doctor cried out in protest. They clutched at their temples, pressing against their ears as if trying to block out a horrible sound. They sank to the ground, some more quickly than others, and one by one, their screams died in their throats.

Martha sprinted around the seats and Rose tried to follow, but Frank held on. She elbowed him sharply. "Get off!"

"Ow! Alright, alright! Dang," he muttered, holding his chest.

Rose raced down the isle, stepping over the bodies of the hybrids, and kneeled next to Martha beside one of the Dalek-humans. "What happened?" she demanded.

"They killed them…" the Doctor said quietly, revolted and horrified. He looked at the bodies, at the rubble from the exploded stage. "An entire species. Genocide!" he spat through his teeth.

He turned to Rose, pain and anger shining in his eyes in equal measure. She reached across the body and curled her hand around his. He squeezed her fingers like his life depended on it.

"Only two of the Daleks have been destroyed." Laszlo pointed out. "One of the Dalek Masters must still be alive."

"Oh yes," the Doctor agreed, his voice dangerous and quiet. He let go of her hand and stood up. "In the whole universe…just one."

He stepped around them and walked up the isle, avoiding the bodies, and snagged his coat from where he'd discarded it. He put it on as he headed for the stage.

"What are you going to do?" Martha asked, on her feet now.

"One of the Daleks would've been designated as the coordinator for attack. He'll be in their base, all hooked up to the equipment. I'm going there. Stay here or come with me, I don't care. It's not like you'll listen to me either way."

He kicked the door open with his foot and it banged shut behind him. The four humans and the pig-hybrid flinched as the sound reverberated. It left behind a ringing silence, punctuated only by the hiss from the still-smoking Daleks. They looked at the death and destruction around them in despair.

"What do we do now?" Martha asked.

"I'm going after him." Rose decided. She looked up the isle at Laszlo, Tallulah, and Frank. "And you?"

"I…I should get back to Hooverville," Frank said. "Let 'em know it's all over now. Y'all make sure you come back before you head out or anything."

"Thank you for your help, Frank." Martha told him. He smiled and his ears reddened.

"Don't mention it."

The rest of them headed back to the sewer entrance in the storage room. The Doctor had been kind enough to leave the manhole open for them just in case. They descended into the sewers quickly, Rose grumbling the whole time about the stink. It was worse than it'd been just hours before. Laszlo guided them through the tunnels towards the Empire State Building and the lab beneath.

Almost immediately they came across the source of the new odor. The hordes of bodies sprawled across each other and on the ground: murdered Dalek-humans. All four of them stopped in their tracks, Martha with one foot still in the air, when they came across the first clump. Tears filled Rose's eyes, Tallulah threw up, and Martha had her hands pressed firmly to her face as if she might do one or both at any minute.

"Come on," Laszlo said quietly. He started down the tunnel with the bodies but Martha reached out to stop him.

"No! We can't!"

"We have to go this way."

"There's got to be another way."

"This is the quickest route," he argued. "It's the way he would've gone—if we try to go around we might not catch him in time."

"But the bodies…we can't just…"

Laszlo's voice dropped to a murmur. "I can smell them. They're all around us. Not every tunnel, but most of them, and probably all of the ones from here to the laboratory. We'll just have to step over them."

He went first, stepping carefully over the legs of a Hispanic woman, then over the waist of a white man. They followed him slowly, finding a path through the bodies and tried to avoid stepping on any limbs or guns. Some of the eyes were mercifully shut, but the others were wide and glassy and seemed to follow their every move, pleading, accusing.

Rose felt as if she herself was to blame for their deaths. If she'd called the TARDIS earlier…if she'd stopped the Daleks in Hooverville, then the army would've never been raised. She knew the Doctor would dismiss her guilt and tell her that it wasn't her fault because it really wasn't in the end. It had been the Daleks. All of it was their fault. They'd stolen these people, made them what they were. As much as she detested the thought of anyone dying in a place like this, she had to admit that it was better they'd died down here, because it meant they hadn't hurt anyone above.

About halfway there, Laszlo's legs gave out again and he dropped the torch. Tallulah helped him walk and Rose and Martha took point. Almost immediately it became clear that Laszlo didn't have the coordination to navigate the path through the bodies and the girls couldn't help him. Leaving Tallulah to hold Laszlo up, Rose and Martha worked together to push and pull the bodies out of the way, just enough to leave a trail wide enough to walk through. There was a brief respite each time the piles of bodies ended and they listened to his breathless directions of which tunnels to take next, but they never went far before they came across another row of corpses.

Eventually the army of the dead was left behind and there were no more bodies to shift. Around them the bricks became dry, transitioning into smooth stone. Laszlo groaned in pain and the more he moved, the more laborious his breathing became. Martha had to fall back and help Tallulah support him and Rose led the group with the torch in hand.

They sighed in relief when they passed through the metal door into the lowest area of the Empire State building. Except for Laszlo.

"Can't breathe…" he choked.

"Just you hang on, sweetheart." Tallulah soothed. "We're almost there. Martha, you're a doctor, can't you—"

"I don't know," Martha huffed. "Unless you want to drop him here and let me have a look. But if he goes down I don't think he's getting back up.

"I'll run ahead," Rose offered. "Make sure it's safe to bring him in."

"Be careful!"

"You need the torch?"

"We're fine, just go. We'll catch up."

Rose nodded and jogged away from them. The smell of the laboratory—pig stink, death and infection—smacked her in the face before she even heard the humming of the machines. Even after the journey here through the sewers the smell of the lab still made her gag. She wrinkled her nose and endured.

She slowed to a walk when she heard the Doctor's voice. Creeping through the entrance to the laboratory, she listened to the last Time Lord attempt to reason with the last Dalek.

"—seen one genocide. I won't cause another."

She carefully leaned her head around the column so she could see where they were. The Doctor was standing a perilous few feet from the Dalek, wired up into the nook in the back of the lab. "Caan…let me help you. What do you say?"

"EMERGENCY TEMPORAL SHIFT!"

The wires fizzed and dropped away from Dalek Caan as he was enveloped in a bright white light. Something slammed into Rose's head. Her temples throbbed and she gasped, squeezing her yes shut. The Doctor shouted angrily as his enemy vanished into time. When he was gone, Rose's body relaxed.

"Ah," she moaned, holding her head. She staggered out from behind the column. "What the hell was that?"

"He displaced himself to somewhere else in time," the Doctor explained. "It's how they got here. Oh, are you alright?"

"I will be."

"What did it feel like?"

"Like someone took a sledgehammer to my head. On every side. Oh, wait, never mind about me! Doctor, Laszlo's—"

"Is it safe?" Martha called tentatively. The three of them were lumbering through the doorway and Rose motioned them ahead.

"Doctor," Martha shouted. "Doctor, help! He's sick."

Rose hurried over to them and took Martha's place supporting Laszlo. The poor half-pigman was pale and covered in a thin sheen of sweat, his breathing shallow and wheezy. Together she and Tallulah pulled him around the corner towards the Doctor. Then his legs couldn't keep him up for another step and they eased him to the ground. Tallulah kneeled and pulled his torso into his lap, brushing his hair from his brow. Martha knelt and pressed her fingers to his neck.

The Doctor approached them somberly, his hands stuffed in his pockets. He crouched down next to them, folding his hands together.

"It's his heart," she told the Doctor. "It's racing like mad. I've never seen anything like it."

_He knows_. Rose could see it in his eyes. The kind of bleakness she saw whenever he had to look someone in the eye when he knew he couldn't save them, just before he smiled and lied.

"What is it, Doctor?" whimpered Tallulah. "What's the matter with him? He says he can't breathe! What is it?"

"It's time, sweetheart," he breathed.

"What do you mean 'time'? What are you talking about?"

"None of the slaves…survived for long. Most of them only lived for a few weeks. I was lucky. I held on because I had you." He smiled at her, his oh-so-human eyes filled with love. Tallulah shook her head. "But now…I'm dyin' Tallulah."

Her face twisted and tears leaked out of her eyes. "No you're not! Not now, after all this. Doctor, can't you do something?"

The Doctor slowly lifted his mouth away from his fists with just a bit of hope and more than a little determination glinting his eyes. "Oh, Tallulah with three L's and an 'H'…Just you watch me." He jumped to his feet and shucked his coat. "What do I need? Oh, I don't know, how about a great, big, genetic laboratory? Oh, look. I've got one.

"Laszlo! Just you hold on!" He pulled a table with beakers and supplies towards them. "There's been way too many deaths today." His expression was manic, his eyes completely livid, and he danced from cart to cart, from table to table. "_Way_ too many people have died." Picking up beakers, graduated cylinders, and tubes, sniffing the contents, giving them a stir with a glass rod. He poured the contents of one cylinder into a beaker and it hissed and smoked.

"Brand new creatures, and wise old men, and age-old enemies. And I'm telling you, I'm telling you right now, I am not having one more death! You got that?" He pulled the screwdriver out of his pocket and lit the flame beneath a beaker. "Not one!"

Tallulah and Laszlo were staring at him, mouths agape, astonished and just a bit frightened of his sudden mania. Martha, who was used to the Doctor going into a state about some things, looked a bit apprehensive. Rose watched him, hands in her pockets, concerned, but enough so that she would try to calm him, not now. Not when Laszlo's life depended on this energy and madness and the ideas the Doctor was willing to try when he was desperate.

"Tallulah, out of the way!" He pulled a stethoscope from his pocket and hooked it around his neck. "The Doctor is in!"

Tallulah lowered Laszlo to the floor and stood back to let the Doctor try and save his life.

The following morning saw the city of New York free of Daleks and pigmen. The people here had enough problems to deal with. The Depression was only just beginning and they still had a long way to go before it was officially over. At least now they could struggle to survive without having to worry about the night swallowing them up. Well, any more than you had to in one of the largest cities in the world. But without merciless xenophobic aliens and their mutant slaves haunting the under ground, things would definitely be a bit easier.

Hooverville would keep on as it was, a place to shelter when there was nowhere else. Their numbers would swell as more people lost their jobs and homes and fled to join the masses they had once helped, or maybe turned their noses up at. But eventually their numbers would begin to diminish as people regained their feet and the country and the rest of the world picked up the pieces, just in time for World War II to begin. The next decade and a half would not be pleasant.

With that thought in mind, Rose leaned in close and murmured to the Doctor. "You can see people's timelines, yeah?"

"In a way. Why?"

"Frank will be more than old enough to fight in the War. He's gonna go, isn't he?"

The Doctor, Rose, Martha, Tallulah, and Laszlo watched Frank walk away from them back into Hooverville to make the proposition. The time travelers stood apart from Tallulah and Laszlo, who was bundled up in a thick trench coat with his ears hidden under a hat.

The Doctor lifted his head, his eyes fixed firmly on the boy's retreating form, and inhaled slowly. "More than half of his potential futures lead him there, yes. It's too far off to tell at this point. So many things could change."

"What about mine?" Martha asked, overhearing.

"You're a time traveller. Your timeline is, well… it's complicated. There's thousands of possibilities, hundreds of thousands. I've got so many places I want to take you and there are different sets of possible timelines for each place I take you. Even the order I take you to each place matters to determine how the timelines play out because with each day comes new experiences, new ideals, and they shape the way you react to certain situations. And from each of those possible paths stems a thousand other possible futures depending on where we go next. The most probable futures stick out prominently, but you have dozens of those."

Martha blinked several times quickly. "Oh. Wow."

"But right now, right now's fairly simple. You've got two probable futures: in the first one we catch a cab back to Battery Park; in the second we walk. They overlap with Rose's and mine but both eventually lead to us back in the TARDIS. Beyond that's where things get complicated, but I promise that in neither of those two futures do you fall down dead, so your fine."

"And me?" Rose asked curiously.

He fixed her with an unfathomable look. "Rose Tyler, you have the single most complicated batch of timelines I have ever seen. Yours make Martha's look like a child's puzzle. Whereas people like Frank, Tallulah, and Laszlo really only have a few possible futures. They've all been altered based on what's happened in the last twenty-four hours, but when I look at them, I can easily tell you where they'll most likely be in a week."

Frank returned ten minutes later, hands in his pockets. His expression wasn't downcast so that had to be a good sign. "Well, I talked to them, and I told them what Solomon would've said. And I reckon I shamed one or two of them."

"What did they say?" the Doctor asked.

Frank nodded and smiled. "They said yes."

Tallulah gasped in relief and hugged Laszlo. Rose smiled and rubbed the Doctor's arm.

"They'll give you a home, Laszlo. I mean, uh…don't imagine people ain't gonna stare. I can't promise you'll be at peace. But, in the end, that is what Hooverville is for—people who ain't got nowhere else."

"Thank you," Laszlo told him. "I—I can't thank you enough."

Tallulah smiled and hugged him. He may have looked different, but he was still the man she fell in love with—her Laszlo, just with a different face. Rose knew how that was.

"So, uh, what about you?" Frank asked the time travellers. "You gonna come?"

"Nah," the Doctor said. "It's time for us to move on."

"Well, if you're ever in the neighborhood, you're welcome to come back. You'll always have a place here. I just, uh, I have something I'd like to ask. I know you've done a lot already, but I wanna know somethin' before you go."

"Oh?" the Doctor arched one eyebrow.

Frank licked his lips. "You've fought them before, the Daleks. You talk about time and aliens and things that are impossible—or were impossible until last night. Who are you?"

The Doctor smiled, almost regretfully. "We're just travellers passing through."

"We're all travellers just passing through," Frank argued. "That doesn't define who we are, though. Now, I ain't a doctor or a lawyer, and I don't claim to be a genius or anything, but I ain't an idiot. Even the Dalek said so."

His smile shifted to one of pride. "No, no you're not"

"Are you…are you from…outer space, too?"

"Yes," the Doctor said. Tallulah gawked.

Frank lifted his eyebrows but, really, didn't seem all that surprised. "They, uh, they got jobs goin' out there?" he inquired, scratching at his ear.

"Oh, I'm sure on some planets, yeah. But I can't take you there. Or, well, I could, but I won't. I'm not just your everyday random visitor to Earth, and trust me when I say your place is here. I'm not saying your life is going to be easy, but it'll be worth it. There's something in your future, something important. If I take you with me, it will never happen, and it _has _to happen."

Frank's eyes narrowed a bit. "How can you know that?"

"I'm a Lord of Time, Frank. I was looking at your timelines a few minutes ago, you know, just to see if I could offer you a trip, but if I do that then…well, it's best if you just stay on Earth. Besides," he gestured to Laszlo. "It's not going to be easy on him in Hooverville. He'll need someone on his side from the get go. And people like you, Frank, they'll come around eventually."

The Tennessean boy looked disappointed but he didn't protest, accepting his fate with a nod. He opened his arms for a hug, looking at Martha hopefully.

"C'mere you." She motioned him forward and pulled him into a firm hug. He hugged Rose next, shook the Doctor's hand, and then the three of them hugged Tallulah and Laszlo. Rose, Martha, and the Doctor turned to leave, but the Doctor spun around suddenly.

"Oh, by the way, Tallulah. I had a chat with the manager of your revue earlier."

She blinked. "You wha?"

"Well, I had to explain to him why there's a bloody great hole in his stage and why the police were carrying about two dozen bodies out. Rose said your show got interrupted when you saw Laszlo in the wings. I, may have mentioned somewhere along the line that you were a key part in the investigation that had saved all of New York City, and if he had any sense at all, he shouldn't fire you."

Tallulah, with two L's and an 'H', smiled gratefully at him. "Thank you. Thank you, so much, Doctor."

They caught another cab and took it back to Batter Park, chatting politely with the cabbie on the way. They rode the first ferry of the day to Liberty Island, watching the Statue of Liberty get closer and closer, feeling a little more melancholy than when they had arrived.

"Why couldn't we bring Frank?" Rose asked. "What did you see?"

The Doctor swallowed. "He had two potential timelines then. The first one stretched out for years, the other one…nothing. That timeline cut off just a few days after joining us. He would've died and he can't die yet. I saw it when you had me analyzing his timelines—I can't tell you if he'll live or die in the war, but before he goes he has to start a family. He'll have a wife and two little girls and I recognized one of his daughter's names. She will go on to become a great mind, and in thirty nine years, when mankind first walks on the moon, she will have played a key part in getting you there."

Martha's eyes widened. "You're kidding me."

"No," he smiled. "Just goes to show you that the most amazing people can come from the most humble backgrounds."

And she didn't miss the way his eyes flicked down to Rose when he said that.

When they docked on Liberty Island, they split off from the main group as soon as they could and walked around the statue base.

"Do you reckon it's gonna work, those two?" Martha asked as they walked back up the hill towards the TARDIS.

"I don't know." The Doctor turned to look at Manhattan and the bay once more. "Anywhere else in the universe, I might worry about them, but New York, that's what this city's good at. 'Give me your tired, your poor, you're huddled masses.' And maybe the odd pig-slave-Dalek-mutant-hybrid." He said that all with a straight face, completely serious, but Martha laughed.

"The pig and the showgirl."

"Sounds like a musical title." Rose chortled.

"Just proves it, I suppose. There's someone for everyone." She glanced at them out of the corner of her eye.

The Doctor's smile softened just a bit. "Yeah."

He headed for the TARDIS with Rose's hand clasped in his, and pulled his key out of his jacket pocket.

"Meant to say…sorry."

"What for?" Rose asked.

"Just 'cause that Dalek got away. I know what that means to you both."

"Hmm," the Doctor muttered, opening the lock.

"Do you think you'll ever see it again?"

He pushed open the door for them. "Oh, yes. Of course we will. The last Time Lord and the last Dalek? Ooh, we won't be able to stay away from each other." He followed his companions inside and shut the door without looking back.

Rose caught the look in his eye as he ran up the ramp, tossing his coat aside, and moved to take them into the Vortex. She stepped up behind him when the rotor started to move up and down, signaling their take off, and put her hand on his shoulder. He turned and looked at her with eyes so deep and sad, filled with grief his lost planet, people, and all those who died to end a species that just wouldn't stay dead, for the thousands who'd died as hybrids and mutants, for Solomon, for Laszlo and Tallulah and the life they might've had, and for a thousand other things she'd never been able to name and may not ever. And something else, too, something like dark fire and it made her body feel warm.

Martha noticed them and cleared her throat. "Right, well, I'm about to fall over, so I'm just gonna go to bed now. Night." She edged around the opposite side of the console and disappeared into the depths of the TARDIS. They probably hadn't even heard her.

Rose slid her hand up the Doctor's arm, and slid it behind his shoulders, pulling him down into a firm hug. He wrapped his arms tightly around her and buried his face in her neck. She stroked up and down his back soothingly and held him.

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**By the way, there was a Spiderman joke in the last chapter. Props to the two of you who caught it. X)**

**You should review. No, really, you should because when I deleted the prank and replaced it with this, all your reviews got deleted. ...I think. That's what used to happen. But I'm almost to 400 reviews by chapter 25. MAKE MY DREAM HAPPEN GUYS PLZ.**


	24. Signs of Affection

**If anyone needs me, I'll be up here on this ledge contemplating all the parallels from this newest episode of DW and watching all of you lose your shit at this chapter.**

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The next morning Rose was already seated at the table, still in her pyjamas and a pair of purple fuzzy slippers, when Martha walked into the kitchen. She looked up from her cereal.

"Morning—I think."

"Yeah, it's morning. Relatively speaking."

Martha walked over to the fridge and pulled out the carton of milk. She pilfered through the cereal selection and decided to go with what Rose was having: Cookie Crisp. She poured the cereal and milk in her bowl, returning them both to their proper places, grabbed a spoon from the drawer, and sat down at the table. Rose was staring into space, chewing slowly and stirring the remaining cereal pieces around the bowl absentmindedly. There were dark circles under her eyes, which meant she probably didn't get a lot of sleep.

Martha took a bite and chewed slowly, savoring the cookies and the processed chocolate that would never match to the stuff from the Dancing Moons in its dizziest daydreams.

"Sooo," Martha asked, drawing the word out. "How'd it go?"

"Hmm? How'd what go?"

"Last night with the Doctor."

Rose scooped another bit of cereal into her mouth. "Fine," she mumbled.

Martha arched her eyebrow. "Fine? That's it? Blimey, for all he goes on about how impressive he is…"

"Well, it could've gone worse."

"Ah."

Rose shrugged. "We didn't get to sleep for a while, though. Too worked up. I'm surprised you were able to sleep. But when I woke up he was gone and I couldn't get back to sleep."

Martha nodded and she took another bite of cereal to hide the smirk she felt pulling at her muscles. "So, um, you two have done this before?"

"Oh, yeah, loads of times. Usually after a pretty stressful day, but most of the time he doesn't say much."

"Ah," Martha repeated awkwardly. "Good to know. Uh, you could've fooled me, though. …You did, actually. I thought there was nothing going on around here."

"What do you m—hang on." Rose made a face. "What exactly do you think I'm talking about?"

"You and the Doctor. Didn't you two…?" she trailed off and wagged her eyebrows.

"No!" She put her forehead in her hand and realized exactly how all of that must've sounded to Martha. "No, we didn't. We just talked. I mean it."

Martha resisted the urge to bang her head against the wall again. Really, she had to stop doing that or she was going to give herself a concussion or brain damage. Though considering the number of times she'd abused her skull in frustration, it was a miracle she hadn't done either already. "You're kidding me. But the way you two were looking at each other…"

"Yeah, well, happens all the time."

"I noticed _that_."

"Look, Martha, I've been around the Doctor for a long time. There've been plenty of opportunities. He's never even really kissed me properly just because he can. For all I know, Time Lords don't even do stuff like that. Not like we do, anyway."

This time she did hit her head against the wall. _Yeah, I'm definitely going to get a concussion_. She ignored the throbbing in her skull and sighed loudly. "You don't think he's leading you on?"

"No."

"Good. Otherwise I'd spike his tea with aspirin."

"Martha, stop it."

She huffed. "Fine. …Of course there's also the possibility that Time Lords do fraternize with us lowly apes and he's just being a bloke."

"We'll then he's the biggest bloke of them all. If you're this tetchy after seeing us two months, just remember that we've been together for two years. We've never…_danced_. The kissing only started up just before you came."

"Oh yeah? How'd that happen?" she asked interestedly.

"We…we were visiting a market. He must've seen me looking at this rock on the vendor's table. The vendor said it was rare, only found on some planet that didn't exist anymore. It was shiny and blue, like the color of shallow water in the sunlight, about the size of my palm and shaped like a star. I thought it was beautiful, but I didn't want to waste that much on a rock, not when we could go to the planet ourselves one day, you know before it exploded or whatever, and get one there. It was more than we had on us anyway and there weren't any cash machines around.

"I'd already moved onto the next few stalls, didn't notice he'd stayed behind until he pressed the rock in my hand." she smiled. "The Doctor had called the vendor's bluff, told him he'd been to that planet only last week, and that it was fine, turning around it's sun as usual, and threatened to report him for tryin' to rip us off. He persuaded the guy to lowered the price."

Martha raised her eyebrows. "But why'd he do that if he could just take you there himself?"

She shook her head. "I have no idea—maybe because we wouldn't be able to get that particular rock or something. Anyway, after that I kissed him, just to say thanks, and he really didn't seem to mind. After that it was just little kisses here and there for whatever reason, but for the most part it's just the usual hugging. But like I said, plenty of chances."

Rose pushed away from the table, closing the conversation as effectively as slamming a door in the medical student's face.

After that, Martha was a woman on a mission. If the Doctor was just leading Rose on, she might just actually shove aspirin—okay, maybe not aspirin because she didn't want to actually _kill _him—but she'd probably deck him to start. But finding one errant Time Lord in a pandimensional ship proved harder than she'd hoped. She tried every door she came to and found the pool, the antigravity room, various sports courts, two rooms that must've belonged to former companions, the infirmary, and her room. That's when she started to get annoyed. Keeping on, she found the garden, the Zero Room, a butterfly garden, a karaoke bar, the console room, and finally arrived back at the kitchen.

_That's enough! Come on, I know you're smart and I _know_ you can hear me,_ she thought with all her might. _And if you care about either at them at all then you'll help me out her! This has got to be driving you mad, too._

Evidently the TARDIS decided that she agreed with her because Martha only had to open two more doors—the pool again, and another random cupboard—before she found herself looking at into the library, the Earth History section, to be specific. Out of all the places she'd found so far, this was the most likely place he'd be. She navigated the rows of books and had to double back twice because she swore the TARDIS enjoyed moving things around to confuse her, even when they were supposed to be working together. She found the Doctor fast asleep on the couch.

The sight was odd.

She knew he didn't sleep often, and while she hadn't ever seen him sleep in all the time she'd been on board, she knew that when he did, it was usually near Rose. He must've accidentally nodded off. He looked peaceful there and about a hundred years younger without old eyes looking out from a young face.

She was tempted to just leave him be and approach him later, but she knew that if wasn't okay to wake him up then the TARDIS wouldn't have allowed her to find him. So she slipped back behind the nearest bookshelf and grabbed three of the thickets books she could find and stacked them on top of each other.

Martha carried them over to the coffee table in front of the couch and she dropped them.

The books hit the table with a very loud THUD that resonated through the silent room and caused the slumbering Time Lord to literally jump awake. He let out a very unmanly yelp and leaped off the couch. Looking around wildly, his eyes locked onto her and there was a split, horrifying second when she saw absolutely no recognition in them whatsoever. Then he scowled.

"Martha Jones, what the hell is wrong with you!? Don't you know better than to scare a sleeping Time Lord awake?"

"No, actually, I didn't." she replied, trying to keep her bravado going, but seeing him look at her that way was a bit unsettling. "You learn something new everyday."

Growling something that didn't translate, he sank back onto the couch and rubbed his face in his hands. "I'm assuming that you have a perfectly good, _very important _reason for giving me a hearts attack."

"Yes, I do, as a matter of fact." Martha folded her arms. "You, Doctor whatever-your-real-name-is, you are either the biggest prat or the biggest bastard that ever lived."

He looked so utterly lost that at any other time it would've been funny. "What did I do?"

Martha shoved the books off the table and sat down primly on the smooth surface. "I'm hoping that you're just being a prat, because otherwise you're going to march your skinny arse into that control room and take me home."

"What?"

"What exactly is your relationship with Rose?" she demanded.

"I—I don't see how that's any of your business."

Martha glared at the Time Lord and she knew she wasn't imagining it when she saw him shrink back a little. "Do you love her?"

"Martha, I don't see—"

"Oh, just shut up, you bloody alien, and answer the question."

He sighed, "Isn't it obvious?"

"Doctor," she warned.

He sighed, staring at her for a moment, and then nodded wordlessly.

"Finally!" she shouted and he flinched. "Now get off your rump and go tell that to her."

"What, now?"

"Yes, now!"

"Just like that? _Good morning, Rose. I love you. Fancy a cuppa?_" He shook his head derisively.

"What's wrong with that? That's what most couples do every morning. That's what my Mum and Dad used to do."

"And look how they ended up."

She surged to her feet and tried to decide if she was just going to storm off or hit him first.

"I'm sorry!" he apologized quickly. "I didn't mean that."

"Yes you did," she snapped. Taking a deep breath, she exhaled slowly and sat back down. "But you're right. Look where they ended up. While Mum was still crying at night, Dad had already had himself a girlfriend: Annaliese. It hurt all of us, but Mum most of all."

He sighed irritably, unaware how close she was to testing. "Is there a point to this?"

"I'm getting there, keep your pants on." She folded her arms again. "Mom told us one time—me, Tish, and Leo—that her biggest regret was that she and Dad didn't try harder and she wishes she'd realized that when she had the chance. Now it's too late. It's been too long, they've both done so may things, said so many things, and they're to proud to admit that there still might be anything there. Is that what you want to happen with you and Rose?"

"She won't leave," he said, as confident as a teenager in love for the first time. "She promised forever."

"So do humans at weddings. 'Till death us do part.'" Martha quoted. "I'm not blind, Doctor. I've been with you nearly three months and I've_ seen_ it. I know you love her, and I know she loves you. But one day you might do something or say something—or maybe you won't say the right thing—and you'll have to watch her walk out those doors for the last time."

"Or I'll have to watch her age and die," he reminded her.

"That's life."

"Not for me." The Doctor rested his elbows on his knees. "I don't age, not like you do, and when this body dies, it will regenerate into another one. Rose can't do that."

"But I thought she had some weird energy inside her. It's been helping her heal faster. You've said so yourself."

"No, I didn't." He shook his head and put his chin on his knuckles. "I said she's been healing a bit faster than she used to, but Huons don't do that. It's a miracle that the particles in her are benign and aren't killingher. My people didn't destroy them because they were _helpful_."

"Well, still—"

"What more is there to say? It doesn't matter what I do, I'm still going to lose her. She'll leave me eventually, one way or another."

"Exactly!" Martha reached out and seized his wrists. "Oh, you stupid idiot. You are going to lose her one day. Life isn't like _The Notebook_ where couples die together in their sleep. So you two haven't got forever, but you have got now. Why are you wasting time worrying about the future? Do you honestly think that if you keep your distance that it'll hurt less when she's gone?"

He said nothing and Martha resisted the urge to sigh. Rose was right. When you really wanted him to talk the Doctor was like a shy three year old. And she wasn't in the mood to deal with his stubbornness or wait for him to finish brooding.

"Because I'm tellin' you, it won't. I've never been in love. Fancied a few guys, me, but never loved them so I'm not speaking from personal experience or anything." She shook his wrists lightly. "But if I'm just a stupid ape, then how come I can see what you can't?"

"Because you're human," the Doctor told her. "And for all your faults, humankind has always been and will always be one of the most clever species in the universe."

Martha sighed and let go of him. "Look, Doctor, I know feelings aren't exactly your strong point, but you should tell her how you feel."

"She knows."

"So? That doesn't mean she wouldn't like to hear you say it. It doesn't have to be some big event with flower petals and candlelight. Just…tell her. Oh, and you should definitely give her a proper kiss, too."

"Martha Jones, has it ever occurred to you that my people had different customs than yours? Hmm? That commitment wasn't shown with rings and that love wasn't expressed with kissing and sex?"

She sat up straighter, interested. Yes, it had occurred to her on multiple occasions, but she'd also assumed that he would understand he'd have to follow _some_ human courting customs considering the woman of his affections was human. Then again, it was the Doctor.

"Time Lords thought themselves above emotions like love. Marriages were almost always arranged based on political usefulness and genetics. Love was a novel emotion for children, whispered behind hands when the instructors weren't looking, sometimes fantasized about, but eventually our children were taught that such things were beneath them. Most Gallifreyans, however, refused to let their lives be dictated for them in such a way.

"Is there a difference?" she asked. "You said 'Time Lords' and 'Gallifreyans' like they're separate."

"I never told you this? No, I told Rose," he said to himself. "All Time Lords were Gallifreyans, but not all Gallifreyans were Time Lords. 'Time Lord' is a title, a rank if you'd like, earned through decades of study." He stopped talking abruptly and swallowed, continuing after a moment. "But those Gallifreyans who chose to find love, developed their own courting rituals, their own ways of showing affection. Time Lords frowned upon such, of course, and so the gestures were discreet, especially in public. Over time, these gestures became the standard."

"Such as…?"

"Grasping each other's hands, not as a gesture of greeting, is comparable to humans embracing. A hug in public would be like two humans snogging in public."

"So, hugging is like kissing to you?" she asked, not quite following. "But you've hugged me. You've hugged a lot of people."

The Doctor smiled. "Well, I've always been something of a rebel. When I hug you, Martha, the intended gesture is the one you perceive. But you must understand: our society was strict. Stuffy. Touch was permitted, but usually reserved for kin unless entirely formal. If two people were to touch it was usually a sign affection in some form. Not just romantic. Two people shaking hands in greeting would be like two humans hugging in greeting. To see two people holding hands was not entirely scandalous, but it was a sign that they were comfortably familiar. If they were not of the same house then it could be assumed their relationship was something like romantic. But if they were to ever openly embrace in public, it would be like two humans kissing in the middle of Trafalgar Square, surrounded by children."

Martha couldn't help but giggle at the mental image, but she also felt a pang of sadness. One thing she had noticed about the Doctor was that he loved to touch things. He would run his fingers along walls, fiddle with random objects (sometimes licking them, but that was something in itself), and his hands always sought out Rose when she was near. Had he always been this way or was this a trait of this particular body? How painful would it have been for him to be on Gallifrey when he had to keep his hands firmly to himself?

"So, if two people were to hug, it would be a surefire sign that they were in love. I saw a couple hugging once," he added quietly. "I was very little. I'd never seen anyone do it before. It was strange to me. They just seemed so happy, though, so from then on I associated hugging with happiness, even after I learned that it was taboo amongst Time Lords and why. When I hug you, Martha, I do it because I am happy. When I hug Rose…I do it because I know what it represented on my planet and because I know what that couple felt when they were hugging."

"And kissing?"

The Doctor glanced down at her. "The first time I saw what you'd consider proper kissing was well into my first life, after I'd run away from Gallifrey, and had landed on planet Earth. Married couples did kiss, but it was always in private, and it was very chaste by human standards." He looked over her head at something. "There were other things, too. Telepathy, for example, played a part, and words. We had so many words, Martha, and so many tenses. So many ways to tell someone how you felt—dozens of ways to express one emotion and each one is entirely unique.

"You humans say 'I love you.' It is a wonderful, if terrifying phrase when spoken with the emotion behind it. But it is also very…lacking. You're stating that you love them at that particular moment. Did you love them the moment before? Will you love them in the next? We had ways of saying 'I loved you once, but no longer and never again.' Or 'I loved you once, but no longer, though I could possibly do so again in my future.' Or 'I love you this moment and will do so in the next.'"

He smiled to himself and when he spoke again, his voice was quiet. Revenant. "And there was one, so complex and deep that there is no way I could ever explain it adequately. But the simplest translation is: 'I love you for eternity, my hearts.' Saying this word to someone would mean that you had begun falling in love the moment you met, you loved them in your present state of being, and would continue to do so across all of your loves and theirs, anywhere in time and space, for as long as you existed, and that when their hearts stopped beating, so too would yours.

"It was never said when others could hear. At weddings, if the couple would say it, they would have to whisper it to each other, because just to hear the word even if it wasn't said to you would be…" he shook his head, at a loss of how to explain it. "I read about it once and I felt like I was tarnishing it but just working out how to pronounce it in my head. Words have power, Martha, and this one has more than you'll ever understand. I don't even understand it fully yet."

"Is that why you've never told her you love her?"

He didn't respond. At closer inspection she wasn't entirely sure he was even breathing.

But she finally understood. She had been waiting for him to do something that would make sense to her as a human. Looking back with this new information, she realized he'd been telling Rose how he felt for as long as she'd been around and long before. Every time he so much as brushed his hand across her back he was telling her. And she understood why nothing was going on behind closed doors. For a man who'd grown up in a society where a simple hug was as powerful as a good snog, sex would be like exchanging marriage vows.

"I think you should tell her exactly what you told me, Doctor, because if I didn't understand then you shouldn't expect her to, either. And I think you should learn how powerful that word is. But in your own time," she added. He still didn't respond verbally, but his smile was enough.

She gave him a smile in return and patted his arm, standing up. "You can go back to sleep now if you want. There's a butterfly garden around here somewhere that I want to get lost in."

"Butterfly garden, really?" the Doctor raised his eyebrows. "Haven't seen that room in a hundred years or so. I thought for sure it must've been jettisoned."

"Guess she really does like me then. She helped me find you in here, after all." With that she strode out of the library to let the Doctor get back to sleep.

But of course he couldn't fall asleep after that. He hadn't meant to nod off to begin with. Hadn't even realized he was tired or he would've gone back to Rose's room to sleep. He left the library to wander the halls, unable to sit still with thoughts buzzing around his head. Martha's words, Shakespeare's words, Jackie's, Mickey's, Shareen Costello's, that Dalek's, the Beast's, Donna's, Jack's words, and the rules of his people. The people he'd destroyed and whose legacy now rested solely upon his shoulders.

For a Time Lord to love a human, never mind actually be in a relationship with one was almost taboo. Leela and Andred's relationship had been almost entirely unique, as had the circumstances of her remaining on Gallifrey. He heard that she'd conceived and had given birth to a child at one point. That, perhaps, had made the people more open to her.

In the end there were dozens of reasons he shouldn't attempt a deeper relationship with Rose, and only one reason why he should, but that one reason was more than enough.

But how was he supposed to do that? He was somewhat familiar with human courting customs, but he was completely at a loss at how they really began. Did they officially declare it to each other like on Gallifrey, or did they just slide right on into it without really saying anything? Or was that something that depended on the couple?

Were he and Rose already in that kind of relationship without him realizing it? What did humans do in relationships again? They held hands, hugged, went on dates to fun and/or romantic places, spent a lot of time together, gave gifts, joked around, smiled, laughed, kissed…

Oh, well then. That explained a lot. Like why people always assumed they were a couple. How long had that been going on? A while, he realized when he actually thought about it. She'd once said that watching the world end had been their first date.

The Doctor exhaled loudly, puffing out his cheeks. _Bugger_.

He couldn't just waltz up to Rose out of the blue and tell her he loved her. Or, well, he supposed he could, but it didn't just seem right. Not after all they'd been through. He'd considered telling her a few times before. After she'd gotten her face back, before he fell into the Pit, several times as she mourned for her mother, before he was led away by the Daleks in the park…

Declarations could wait, he decided. Right now, he just wanted to see Rose Tyler smile.

He headed for the control room and went through a list of places they could go that they'd never been to before. Peaceful places, beautiful places, with things that would make her eyes light up with wonder and smile and laugh. Some place warm with no pigs or sewer systems involved. A theme park, perhaps—no, too crowded. Somewhere remote, then, or at least a popular place beforeit became popular. Peaceful, beautiful, remote, and guaranteed to make Rose Tyler smile…and why not make her the first person to smile at it?

Five minutes later he was moving around the controls and silently pleading with TARDIS to fly true. After facing Daleks and what nearly happened to Rose (and since his sleep had been interrupted), they deserved—no,_ needed_—a day where the most dangerous thing they had to worry about were the crabs the size of golden retrievers. But they were very sensitive and could be scared away with the right setting on a sonic screwdriver or chicken legs, both of which he had. He hoped to land somewhere far from their nesting grounds, but you could never be too sure.

The ship lurched and he grabbed on to the console to avoid falling and bashing his head into the seat. Behind him he heart a feminine yelp and he craned his head to see. Rose was in the doorway, holding onto one of the corals for dear life.

"Sorry!" he called over the noise of the rotor. She nodded, smiling meagerly.

The TARDIS shuddered to a halt and he pulled himself up right. Rose let go of the coral and rubbed her wrist gingerly. From further within the ship they heard Martha shout, "A little warning next time!"

He laughed to himself and felt that justice had been served.

"So, where are we?" Rose asked.

"The planet of Kataa Flo Ko, in the year 8900 BC." He beamed at her. "No alien invasions, no Daleks, no running for our lives…"

"Sounds great," she agreed. "Let's go out, then."

"No, hold on," he looked her up and down. Standard dress: jeans, trainers, and a t-shirt. "I think you'll be a bit too hot in that." Glancing over her shoulder, he added, "And you definitely will be."

"Why?" Martha asked and Rose jumped, startled. "What's out there?"

"Well…if I'm right, and I hope I am…" the girls watched him stride over to the doors and look outside. "Yes! We are on Kataa Flo Ko, a planet where almost everything is made of gemstones." He shut the door and walked back to his companions, hands clasped behind him. "Well, except for the bit of vegetation, but it still has some crystalline properties. I've been here a few times before. This is the planet closest to the nearest sun that you can survive on, so it's pretty hot, and to answer your question, Martha, we are at a beach."

"What's the sand made of?" Rose asked interestedly.

"Weathered and crushed gems, of course," he said, smiling when he saw their eyes light up.

Fifteen minutes later the three of them were piling out of the TARDIS with swimsuits on under shorts and sleeveless shirts, clothes for later, towels, two blankets, a basket of food, three bottles of appropriate type of sunscreen, several glass bottles and vials with corks to take some of the sand in, a box of chicken legs to throw at any giant crabs, a camera, and the Doctor had a small pack slung over his shoulder with mysterious contents he refused to divulge until later.

He wished he'd had the foresight to turn the camera on before letting them see the planet he'd landed them on, because Kataa Flo Ko was definitely one of the wonders of the galaxy, and, technically, Martha and Rose were the first humans to ever see it, and both were completely stunned into silence.

The TARDIS had landed on the edge of a plain of green grass that swayed in the breeze, shimmering in the light. The sky was a mix of light blue and lavender and one sun shined brightly in the sky. Another sun, brilliantly blue, was further away but it was enough to give the sky its purplish tinge. The sand was pale like on Earth, but it shined and shimmered with color and stretched for miles and miles in either direction, while the ocean was clear and blue, throwing off a million rainbows as it crashed onto shore.

Rose broke the silence first, a wondrous smile on her face. "It's beautiful!"

"Yeah," the Doctor agreed, eyes for her and only her. "Well, come on. It takes only eighteen hours for this planet to rotate once. Time's a-wasting!" He made a face. "Ooh, remind me never to say that again."

He chose them a spot far enough from the water that they wouldn't be hit when the tide came in and then they set up camp. While they worked and applied sunscreen, the Doctor talked.

"This system is about twice the size of Earth's, and it's got around fifteen planets in it. They're all heated by a blue star—relatively small considering how big they can potentially be—and a yellow star that's about twice the size of your sun. Unfortunately, the blue sun only has about ten thousand years left to live. By the time humans make it to this system, it'll have long since vaporized, leaving the surrounding planets to be heated by the yellow star. It's big enough to keep some of them going, just not as hot as they used to be. But many of them are going to become icy and cold. Like Pluto."

"Oh, didn't you hear? Pluto isn't a planet anymore." Martha said.

"Says who?"

"Astronomers…NASA…that lot."

The Doctor snorted, "Yes, because humans have the right to determine what is and isn't considered a planet. If it's a ball and it has a stable orbit around a star, it's a planet, simple as that."

"I know that." Martha rolled her eyes. "It's just not considered a proper planet anymore. It's a dwarf planet."

"Compared to what? Earth or all the other planets in your solar system? That's a horrible scale, complete rubbish. When you consider all the planets in your galaxy alone, Earth is a dwarf planet."

"Hey, don't get cross with me! I'm just telling you what I heard on the telly."

"Right, because if it's on television it has to be—"

Rose cleared her throat, arching her eyebrows, and they both looked at her guiltily. "If you can't play nice, you're gonna have to play on opposite ends of the beach."

"No ta."

Martha craned her neck. "That might be a bit difficult, anyway. I can't even see the end."

Rose rolled her eyes. "So what's gonna happen to this place, Doctor?"

"Well, Kataa Flo Ko and her sisters will escape that icy fate due to their proximity to the yellow sun, but the winters will be just a bit longer. Plus this place doesn't have soil right for farming anything alien so humanity will, for the most part, just pass this whole system by. All the planets here are made the same way, except for Kataa Nu Kan, but it's entirely gaseous. Its name literally means 'No Ground Planet' in the language of the people that named it! Clever, eh?"

"What's Kataa Flo Ko mean?"

"'Second Rainbow Planet' because it's twin, Kataa Fi Ko—that's 'First Rainbow Planet'—is closer to the sun. Each land mass looks like the gem it's primarily composed of, so from space the whole planet looks like one giant messy rainbow! I should show you when we leave." he added as an afterthought.

"All the planets in this system are made of gemtones, but usually only one or two types. In fact, all three of the systems in this area are mostly made up of crystalline planets. Two are safe to inhabit, but the other one has an Xtonic star. The rays it produces are pure poison; the light would vaporize a human on contact. Nothing can survive in that entire system," he added grimly. "But, if I'm not mistaken, some of the planets get leisure palace chains on them far in the future. Hmm. Always wanted to go there. Maybe later."

Martha and Rose glance at each other worriedly. "Are we safe here?" Martha asked.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, don't worry. We could probably see that star from here, but we're too far away for its rays to hurt us." he assured them.

By the Doctor's calculations, they still had five hours of daylight left to enjoy, and enjoy it they did.

Rose got a vial of the shimmering sand for herself and started to make one up for her mum. She found an area of sand that had a particularly golden shimmer filled the little spherical container. Just as she was about to pop the cork in, she froze. Oh, right. Jackie Tyler wasn't waiting for her to come back to Earth for a visit. Not the Earth in this universe, anyway. For a just a moment she sank down into that dark part of her mind where the pain and grief at the loss of her mother always lurked and tilted the vial to empty it. She decided against it, however, and pressed the stopper firmly into place. She helped Martha fill ones for her family, darting along the beaches to places with higher concentrations of a specific type of shimmer. As an afterthought, she decided to make one up for Shareen that she'd deliver whenever they took Martha home.

The Doctor watched them with a smile on his face. Martha had once accused him of being able to enjoy anything—which he could, almost—but in reality, it was human beings that had that gift. His brain was analyzing everything about this place as it always did. Why the sky was blue in the mornings, lavender in the late afternoon, and a mixture of both at noon; how much of the heat was supplied by each sun; what the sand around them was likely composed of; why the vegetation sparkled, why the water threw off rainbows; what direction the wind was blowing from. It was all cycling through his brain, being calculated and reasoned, and filed away with all the other information he had about this planet. But his companions, they _saw_ the beauty and nothing more. He didn't doubt that they wondered about all of that, but their brains didn't automatically work out why the things around them were the way they were. They could take it at face value and just enjoy it.

And he was glad they were enjoying how beautiful it was here. There were enough precious metals in ten feet any direction them to make them richer than Martha would ever be on a doctor's salary. In fourteen thousand years, human beings would find the three sister systems, and they would discover the riches they beheld. They would see the beauty, and they would see the profit to be made. The Xtonic system would remain untouched until leisure companies moved in, but the other two, the ones without poisonous suns, would be divided up. The ones with sentient species would be left alone for the most part, and some of the uninhabited ones would be set aside as "nature reserves" to make people feel better about what would happen to the rest. They would be mined, and by the year one million, most of the planets would have been picked clean, left to die in space.

He watched Rose kick the sand as she walked, sending up a flurry of silver into the air with each step. She looked up and caught his eye, smiling, and he smiled right back at her automatically. She didn't need to know what would become of Kataa Flo Ko and he would stop thinking about it.

The five hours of daylight passed in bliss, the kind that seemed to last forever, but never quite long enough.

The Doctor was wearing only a sleeveless shirt and swim trunks. Martha, having never been to the beach before with them, was unaccustomed to seeing the Doctor in anything less than one of his dress shirts and occasionally an undershirt. She was honestly surprised to see how human he looked underneath all those layers. When he caught her staring, she admitted to wondering if he'd secretly had spots or stripes or something else really alien on his skin that he always chose to keep hidden. He laughed merrily and turned his arms over to further affirm that there were no such marks.

They went up the beach with tiny buckets to hunt for seashells. Both humans were surprised to see that some of the shells were shaped similarly to ones on Earth, while others were completely bizarre, but they all sparkled in some way. Some were small enough to be made into jewelry and Martha found a conch shell that was bigger than the Doctor's hands. Some of them were like one big gem; others were more like Earth shells but with flakes of shining stone within, scattered randomly or arranged in a pattern.

They waded knee-deep in the water, kicking and splashing, sending up rainbows of color into the air. At first it was just for the sake of feeling the water and enjoying the colors…and then the Doctor shoved a wave of water in the direction of his companions. They both yelped as the wave made contact with their backs. Martha whirled around immediately and glared. Rose, still tense in surprise with her hair plastered to her neck and shoulders, slowly turned to face the Time Lord. She arched her eyebrows, he grinned shamelessly, and then it was war.

The girls splashed water at him and he backed away, one hand up to ward off their attack while the other returned fire. He started to inch around them towards the deeper water and they turned with him, moving closer even as he tried to flee. When he was waist-deep in the water, he ducked under and shot off. Martha and Rose stilled so they could see where he'd gone. The water was clear, the sand underneath it a pale cerulean—surely a tan humanoid would stick out like a sore thumb, right?

Wrong.

Martha was just wondering aloud if the Doctor's 'superior Time Lord physiology' allowed him to be invisible underwater, when he popped up in front of her and splashed water at her face. Shrieking, she swiped her hands at the surface of the water to splash him but he was already ducking back below the surface.

"Okay, he's not gonna sneak up on us again." Martha growled. "We should stand back to back so we can cover all sides."

Rose nodded, turning so she was facing away from her friend, and scanned the water intently. She saw a flash of brown out of the corner of her eye and turned, drawing her hand through the water so that when he popped out of the water a few seconds later he was greeted with a wave of water to the face. While Martha turned to attack, Rose lunged at him. His arms were busy deflecting the water so he didn't notice her until she'd latched onto his side. She twisted around to his back and clung to him like the ape she was, with her legs wrapped around his and her arms around his shoulders in an attempt to lower his defenses and keep him in place.

"Let 'im have it!" she shrieked, ducking her head behind his shoulder to avoid most of the onslaught.

He tried to back away but she tightened her legs around him and put a stop to that. She was sure he could break free of her grip if he really wanted to or just rop down into the water to get her to let go but he did neither.

"Oi! You're cheating!" the Doctor howled over the water being flung at him.

She stretched her head up to whisper in his ear. "'All's fair in love and war.'"

He turned his head, eyes glinting in a playfully dangerous sort of way. "Oh, is that so?"

Quick as a flash, he twisted in her grip so they were pressed chest to chest and kissed her. He slid his hands around her waist, his fingers cool against her wet skin and she shivered, though not from the cold. One of her hands went up to cup the back of his neck and she pulled up her legs so they were around his waist instead of his legs. She felt him smile against her lips and then he spun them around. Martha apparently had yet to notice what was occurring because she kept up her relentless assault. When the water hit her back, she broke the kiss with a startled gasp. Water hit her again, pushing her hair forward so some of it stuck to the Doctor's face.

The Time Lord was grinning wickedly.

"Cease fire!" she shouted. "Martha! Quit it!"

The attack halted abruptly and Martha straightened up, taking in the positions of her friends, and she laughed. "How'd that happen?"

Rose turned her head. "He cheated."

"'All's fair in love and war,'" he repeated cheekily.

"Hmph."

While the girls waited where they were, the Doctor ran to the beach to get something out of the backpack he'd brought. Rose curiously tested her buoyancy in the alien water and found she didn't quite float as easily as she normally did. That wasn't unusual. On one planet she'd found it impossible to stay below the surface for more than a few seconds, and on another she'd had to wear a special buoyant bodysuit so she wouldn't sink right to the bottom. The Doctor came back with three pairs of goggles—even though the water here had less salt than the oceans on Earth, there were still properties in it that would hurt even his eyes—and two things that resembled oxygen masks. Breathers, he called them, and explained that they drew in the air and oxygen from the water around them so they could breathe underwater.

"Try to keep your breathing even and normal," he continued as he help them fit the masks around their faces. "Breathe too deep and you might not have enough air available."

"Why do we need these?" Rose asked.

The Doctor grinned. "Because we're going scuba diving, but with these as the scubas. I was hoping there would be some around here; I saw them when I was underwater earlier, not too far out. Kataa Flo Ko has some beautiful diamond coral reefs. You're going to love them. They're literally made of diamonds! Look out there, see?" he pointed further out in the water. "See how the water is lighter over there? There's a reef right under there."

After being asked where his breather was, the Doctor said that he only had two and then had to explain that his respiratory bypass made it possible for him to stay underwater for several minutes without air. Martha found this medically fascinating and questioned him about it. Rose, meanwhile, bobbed up and down in the water, testing the breather, and found for the most part that she could breathe as easily beneath the surface as above. Finally, the Doctor sighed impatiently and reminded the medical student that they were wasting daylight with questions that could be asked later.

Rose and Martha found it difficult to keep up with the Doctor on the swim out to the reefs, enough that he finally circled back and grabbed their hands to tow them. It was strange feeling, breathing underwater, since it's been ingrained in her for as long as she could remember to not inhale water. She caught herself holding her breath several times and had to remind herself that, yes, she could inhale and nothing bad would happen.

It was like nothing they'd ever seen before. The water at the shallowest part of the reef was about ten feet deep and stretching from the bottom to about four feet below the surface for about a dozen yards out to sea, was a huge, layered diamond coral reef. They very much resembled an Earth coral reef, except for the whole made of white diamond thing, from flat mushroom-like bits, to pieces that looked like little trees, and there were even some of the squiggly ones that always had reminded Rose of brains. The sunlight reflected off the pristine surfaces and threw rainbows towards the surface.

The Doctor let go of their hands so they could dive down deeper while he popped to the surface for air.

Rose floated about a foot above the highest point of the coral reef, lighting kicking her feet to keep herself from sinking any further, and peered at the crystalline coral. She reached out and rubbed the surface with the pads of her fingers. It was slippery and smooth but not slimy, and she tapped on it to affirm that it was hard like an Earth diamond. She arched her back, flipping herself over, and swam down further into the reef.

She spotted Martha trying to use the lesser buoyancy to her advantage so she could stand on a more flat area. She looked up at Rose and widened her eyes, lips pressed together behind the mask as if to say, "_I'm going to get this."_ Rose found a branch of coral that seemed sturdy enough and held on to it so she could watch. By pushing upward with her arms, Martha managed to keep her feet on the surface for a few seconds, but then she always drifted upwards. Then a shadow appeared over her and the Doctor put his hand on her head, holding her down.

Martha nearly jumped out of her skin, knocking the Doctor's hand away. She looked up at him in alarm. He gave her a quick thumbs up and gestured towards the coral with his head. Martha nodded and pushed herself back down. The Doctor put his hand on her head again and she was standing on the diamond coral reef. Rose saw her grinning through the mask. She lifted her foot and took a step forward, then another. The Doctor kicked his feet so he could follow her.

Her foot slipped and the other followed and she ended up floating back-first towards the surface. The Doctor got out of her away and watched her rise with her arms folded and a grumpy expression on her face. He laughed, the sound muffled and faint through the water, with bubbles bursting from his mouth. Rose giggled.

He had to surface again but then he joined Rose down at the branch she was hanging from. Not for the first time today, her eyes roamed up and down his body. It was not often she saw him in less than his trousers and at least a t-shirt and she was not one to let such opportunities pass unappreciated. Besides, he was looking too and she knew it.

The Doctor held out his hand, wiggling his fingers invitingly. She shook her head and kicked upwards, weaving through two large tree-like corals and through a round tunnel. She glanced back to make sure he was following her, winked once, then took off. Rose dove down through the levels, twisting and turning, slipping through tiny tunnels and propelling herself up and over the larger of the flat areas. Sometimes she'd pause to catch her breath, hiding behind stalks of coral, on a level or two below him, or on a layer above him.

She knew he was letting her keep ahead, purposefully not looking too hard (at least not right away, though she always gave him an opportunity to glimpse her when she emerged from her hiding space) but it only added a bit of suspense to the fun and left her wondering when he'd stop letting her get away from him.

Rose made sure she didn't wander too far out to sea, or too far down into the reef itself. She didn't want to get lost or make Martha worry, and plus she wasn't quite sure what was down there with them. The sunlight shown down and the reefs gleamed brilliantly, but there were still shadows, areas thick with darkness that could be hiding anything. So far most of the life forms seemed to be avoiding them or had been docile, but where there were gentle things there were also those that were not, and she didn't fancy finding out what the Kataa Flo Ko version of a shark was.

She nearly swam right into Martha, yelping out an apology that she wasn't sure if she even understood, then dove down another few levels and grabbed onto a branch to hold herself in place and catch her breath. Martha stared down at her, then looked the way she'd come. A moment later the Doctor appeared. He paused next to Martha, turning this way and that, then he looked at Martha for help. Martha shook her head and pointed downwards. The Doctor followed her finger and Rose shot off again.

Martha watched them go, feeling smug like someone who'd been watching her friends pine after each other for years and finally got them to notice each other. She'd known from the moment the Doctor told them where they'd landed that he'd done it for Rose (not that him doing things for Rose was anything new) but the timing of this trip was no coincidence. Of all the places he could've taken them after the conversation she'd had with him earlier, he'd chosen a beautiful beach on a beautiful planet.

Any excuse to get Rose in a swimsuit.

Rose whizzed upwards about five yards to the right and the Doctor followed seconds behind her. Martha thought that their game did seem like fun, but she was used to being a third wheel by now, so she left them to it. She'd ask later, and maybe they could turn it into a game of hide-and-seek.

This little game had been going on for at least ten minutes by now and Rose was beginning to wonder when he'd get tired of letting her slip past him. She'd been expecting him to catch her, but it still came as a surprise when she felt a hand seize her bicep. She jerked, startled, and turned her head. The Doctor was floating right beside her. He pulled her to him, locking his arms around her waist, her back pressed to his front, and propelled them to the surface. She felt a bit of sadness at their game having ended, but she was tired and she wanted to get that mask off her face and have a breath of fresh air.

When they broke the surface, she tried to reach up and pull her mask off but his arms were still firmly around her.

He kissed her cheek, murmuring slightly breathless into her ear, "Got you."

* * *

**Just so you know, I am fully expecting to laugh at over half of these reviews. **

**If anyone's interested, I painted a picture a few weeks ago for this chapter. You can see it at my tumblr (wintermoth) /post/47310031110/**

**GUYS I GOT OVER 400 REVIEWS NOW :D IT ONLY TOOK 3 CHAPTERS. Next up: 500. **


	25. Constellations

**I told my roommate a bit about this chapter a few weeks ago.  
Her: Bow chicka wow wow.  
****Me: XDDD Nooo...  
Her: *wags eyebrows***

* * *

An hour, three very good games of hide-and-seek with Martha, and several encounters with marine life later, the three time travellers tramped through the shallows, exhausted from playing among the reefs. They pulled their goggles and masks off, wiggling their mouths and scrunching their noses.

Even the Doctor seemed to be worn out and that was saying something. Granted he had spent a good amount of time searching the reef for his companions who'd both honed their skills at wandering off to elude him. Still, he at least had enough dignity and strength left to not flop down on the blankets like they did. He shook the water out of his hair, ignoring Martha's mutters about no puppies allowed on the TARDIS, and dropped down next to Rose.

"So, what did you think?" he asked them, grinning.

Rose paused, lowering the towel from her hair. "Do you even have to ask?"

"Well, sometimes it's nice to hear something even if you already know the answer." Martha said pointedly as she dried her arms with the towel. The Doctor suddenly found the blanket very fascinating and Rose went back to squeezing the water out of her hair. Martha smashed her lips together to stop herself from laughing at them.

As the sun started to set, they pulled on clothes over their suits and got to work making dinner. A fire pit was dug, the portable campfire kit was unpacked and lit, and food was pulled from the cooler to be cooked. It'd been Martha's idea to have dinner on the beach so it'd been up to her to decide what they'd be eating.

Watching her pull supplies from the bag, they tried to discern exactly what she was planning on making. She unfolded a grate from the portable campfire kit and set it over the fire. Then she pulled out several sealed bags containing one ingredient each: chicken, mushrooms, tomatoes, and potatoes. She sat with her legs crossed, a small cutting board on her lap, and the bags in the sand along the front of her legs. Last, she pulled a handful of skewers from the bag. Brushing her hands off on her lap, she pulled the bags open and started sticking pieces from each onto a skewer.

Rose had absolutely no idea what she was making. She and Jackie hadn't had the money to go out to dinner often and her mum hadn't ever made anything resembling that. The only thing that came to mind was s'mores but that definitely was not what was on the menu.

The Doctor watched, captivated, his eyes tracking each slice of food from its bag to the skewer. Martha kept glancing up at him, a smile tugging at her lips, and Rose was chuckling quietly.

"Doctor, are you alright?" Martha lightly jabbed the half loaded stick towards his face. He didn't even flinch.

"I've never had a shish kabob before," he explained, watching her skewer another piece of chicken. "I've heard of them, but I've never actually gotten around to trying one."

"Never?" she asked in surprise. "I would've figured by now you've had everything there is to eat on Earth."

"Nah, that'll never happen. Every day new recipes are being invented and forgotten. There's no way I could ever keep up. Besides, plenty of places I can go to eat in the universe."

"Well, first time for everything." Martha said, handing him the first one. "No! It's still raw. Put it on the grill." She nodded to the metal grate over the fire and picked up another stick.

He lowered it from his mouth and gingerly set it on the grill.

"I've never had them before, either." Rose admitted.

Martha nodded. "You I can understand. Don't worry; I think you'll like it."

After she placed three more on the grill, Martha rotated the first one, showing them how one side was nice and brown. She left them with the task of minding the grill while she continued to prepare the rest. As she'd predicted, the Doctor was able to adequately judge when the kabobs were done and he removed them from the grill, placing them on the plate Rose held. Though she half expected him to try to sneak one early or fidget impatiently, he was always on the move and in a hurry, the Doctor seemed content to simply let time pass and enjoy it.

She was glad. The rhythmic rolling of the waves, the chirping of nighttime insects that were starting to come out, the crackling of the campfire, and the nearly inaudible hum of the TARDIS behind them. She was more relaxed right then, sitting on an alien beach with two of her best friends in the universe, sliding pieces of meat and vegetables onto the skewers, than she had been in would've been even better if she hadn't felt like a third wheel all day, but that was unavoidable with them, and she didn't mind much these days. She was getting an experience that few others ever would and if she had to feel like the odd one out and excuse herself to let them be alone sometimes, well, she'd do it.

And there was something satisfying about watching the two of them grow closer together and knowing she'd helped. Martha, if nothing else, was practical. She knew that this life—the travelling and running—wasn't permanent. Soon she'd have to go back to Earth. 2008, May. She had a life there that she couldn't just drop. Maybe once she finished med school she'd go back to travelling with them, but eventually she'd stop. Rose would stay with the Doctor and the two of them would keep on travelling. Maybe they'd come to visit—no, there was no maybe about it, they _would_ be coming to visit her—and maybe she'd go with them a few times, but she would be able to happily wave goodbye each time if she knew they were happy together.

Feeling like a mother, she watched the two of them eat shish kabobs for the first time. Rose seemed unsure what to do at first, but then she held the point in one hand and the handle in the other and went about biting pieces off like corn on the cob. The Doctor tried different ways to pry the pieces off without poking himself or dropping them in the sand. Rose was laughing at his antics, his eyes kept flickering between her and his food, and Martha decided he was probably being silly just for her.

Once more she was struck with a pang of regret. The Doctor had, without meaning to, ruined everyone else for her.

The woman with silver hands had told her she'd meet her love in the "darkest time." Whatever that was supposed to mean. She couldn't help but wonder sometimes what he'd be like. A human, probably—she wished Rose nothing but the best, but she didn't think she herself could honestly love anyone who wasn't her own species. Even if he did look like one and could offer her the universe from start to finish. Would he be short or tall? Black, white, or something else—it didn't matter to her, not really. He'd have to be intelligent and brave. She wasn't expecting him to be able to look a Dalek in the eyestalk, but he would have to be able to accept the fact she was a time traveller and they would occasionally have a pandimensional ship landing in their front room. And he'd have to be willing to come with them to an alien planet. Or two.

After dinner, the Doctor cleaned off the skewers and grate with the sonic and Rose helped Martha repack the supplies. Rose carried the bag over to the TARDIS, unlocking the door, and set it just inside the door. The TARDIS hummed, the touch in her mind warm, but brief. Shutting the door behind her, Rose fixed the knot on her long, sky blue sarong and slipped the key around her neck. She treaded carefully back across the sand to the blankets where the Doctor and Martha waited.

The sand glimmered in the firelight, reminding her once more that it was made entirely of precious stones. This beach, she decided, was one of her favorite places in the universe.

She sat down next to the Doctor, hip pressed against his, and curled her legs out to the side, leaning on him for support. Three of the four moons were well up into the sky by the time the last light of the distant blue star faded, leaving the sky inky black, peppered with the light of countless stars.

The Doctor had kept one of the skewers and he used it as a pointer. Martha joined them on their blanket, resting her head against his shoulder, and followed the line of the thin metal pole as he explained the sky above him. They could see nebulas burning millions of miles away, nurseries as colorful as the planet they sat on, cradling baby stars, several of which would be visible from earth one day. He indicated which clusters of stars were galaxies and which ones looked like they were close but were actually light years apart. He indicated which lights were Kataa Flo Ko's sisters—those were fairly easy to distinguish, as they each gave off light tinged with color. The nearest one was mostly green.

He pointed to a small one, almost purple in color, and said, "That's the Xtonic star I was telling you about earlier. It gives of galvanic radiation. Just one touch on your skin and you'd turn to dust."

He indicated several big balls of light and said they were, in fact, not galaxies or neighboring planets, but individual stars. Some were the size of the Earth's solar system. One was bigger. Then he started tracing constellations that they named on the spot.

"—and see that one there? That's the tip of the tail."

Martha squinted for another few seconds. She'd never been good with constellations. "Yeah, I think so."

"What should we call it?"

"Bob."

Martha and the Doctor looked over at Rose with their eyebrows raised. She stared up at the sky resolutely.

"Bob," she repeated.

"You know," the Doctor said slowly. "When humans started inhabiting other planets, it became a general rule that if the indigenous life had pre-existing constellations, they would be honored. But if the people there never bothered to name patterns in the sky, astronomers would do it, and they usually became official. So, technically, here and now, we're deciding the official constellations for Kataa Flo Ko."

"Then Kataa Flo Ko has a constellation called Bob," Rose said firmly.

They stayed out there for a while longer, occasionally lapsing into silence. Rose felt tranquil, a far cry from how she'd felt this time yesterday. Tranquil, happy, safe, and with the Doctor's fingers tracing patterns idly on her side, loved. She never wanted it to end.

Eventually, though, Martha yawned. "Well, I'm going inside. It's getting a bit to chilly out here for me. You guys gonna stay out here a bit longer?"

The Doctor glanced down at Rose and they both nodded.

Martha picked up her clothes from earlier and her towel, heading for the TARDIS. Calling over her shoulder, "Don't you stay out too late!" she unlocked the door and stepped inside.

The moment the door shut, Rose sighed, shifting closer to the Doctor. She felt him smile against her head. His skin was cool and the night air was little better, she couldn't help but shiver even with the fire. She fisted her hands around the loose sleeves of her chemise, holding the fabric closer to her skin to block the breeze. The Doctor pulled away and returned a moment later with one of the smaller blankets that he wrapped around her shoulders.

It was her turn to smile. "Thank you." She fidgeted before he could put his arm around her again, her back was getting a bit stiff from sitting in the same position for so long, and she decided to stretch out on her back.

The Doctor blinked once slowly, then joined her. Instead of putting his arm around her, he laced his fingers with hers, their clasped hands resting in the space between them. She smiled, closing her eyes contently.

"This has been nice," she said quietly. "How come we didn't come sooner?"

He shrugged. "There're lots of places I'd like to take you. But places like this seem even nicer when you're not visiting them every day. You've got to have variety. Besides, this way we've always got something to look forward to. Always one more place we can go."

"Hmm. All the same, I really loved today. Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me."

"Well I'm gonna."

He smiled, looking at her properly now. Her cheeks were lit by the firelight but her eyes were cast in shadow and he could see the stars reflecting off the brown orbs. He turned onto his side, propping himself up on his arm and curling his other hand around hers at once.

"I think I'm the one who should be thanking you," he admitted quietly. Blinking, she turned her head towards his, and arched her eyebrows. "Because you stay. Every time I'm sure I've finally gone and done something that'll make you leave, you don't even flinch."

The corners of her lips turned upwards. "I don't want to."

He lifted their joined hands, brushing his knuckles across her cheek. "Even if this is all I can give you?"

Her eyes closed at his touch. "It's enough," she whispered.

"Is it? Is it really?" he pressed. "You're young, Rose. You might be happy now, but what about in five years? There are things I can never give you. Things you might want one day."

Rose snapped her eyes open and glared at him fiercely. "Don't you dare. This has been one of the nicest days I've had in ages. Don't spoil it."

"Rose."

"Doctor."

"Please."

She sighed. "I told you before: I'm never gonna leave you. I thought you'd have gotten that through your head by now. I want this life, here, with you."

"And what about a house, a job, children, and things like that?"

"Doctor, I don't care about any of that. I don't want that life."

"You could, one day."

"Yeah and I'm also old enough to decide what I want for myself, thanks." she replied tersely. "I don't need you or anyone telling me what I need or don't need in my life. And I say for now, _this_—" she held up their joined hands "—is enough."

He smiled at her, his eyes proud and yet resigned, like he'd expected this answer all along. He squeezed her hand tighter.

"You're such an idiot sometimes," she told him, then she and scooted closer. "But you're my idiot."

The Doctor chuckled, brushing her cheek again, but quickly sobered. "I meant it, though."

"So did I."

"No, before that. _Thank you_. And I…I'm sorry for yesterday. I was worried about you the whole time I was with them."

Her eyes flitted downwards, studying the blanket covering her arm. "Half the time I was sure you'd turn up any second, the other half, all I could think about was finding your dead body."

A tremor ran through her body and he felt a tear land on his hand. He immediately let go of her hand and put his arm around her waist, pulling her against him. She rolled onto her side and pressed her face into his t-shirt, fisting her hands in the material and she shuddered. Her voice was muffled but he understood every word she said. "The way you kissed me—I thought you were telling me goodbye. I thought you knew they were gonna kill you and I wouldn't have been able to save you this time."

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "It was the only way. There wasn't time to—"

"I know." She lifted her head. "Just…shut up for a bit."

He closed his mouth obediently and spent the next few minutes tracing words in Gallifreyan on her back. He wondered if she'd noticed yet that he always wrote the same thing, over and over, every time he did this. When they were curled up in bed as he tried to help her fall asleep, after she was asleep, when they were lounging together on the couch. He didn't expect her to know what it meant, just that he'd been telling her for months. He'd even written it near the bottom of her door one night when he was bored and waiting for her sleep cycle to be over. The words he wanted to say to her.

He could smile when others said it, he could think it, he could admit it to Martha, but saying it to Rose herself was another matter entirely. But she knew. She had to.

The Doctor lifted his eyes to the stars and almost smiled when he found a specific cluster again. Their shape was unclear from this part of space and incomplete, but he knew them just as he always did. He'd noticed them earlier but he hadn't wanted to explain so he hadn't called attention to them then. He wanted to show her now. He wanted someone other than him to look up at the sky and know, if only for a few minutes, the importance of that ravaged bit of space.

"Rose, I want to show you something."

He sat up and reached for the skewer, which lay forgotten above the blanket, and pointed it at the cluster. "That cluster I'm pointing to—bit difficult to see since we're so far. Looks like a wonky five-point. Do you see it?"

She sat up and squinted, trying to locate the cluster among the dozens of stars in the area he was pointing out. Finally she nodded.

"That's what's left of the constellation of Kasterborous," he told her softly. "It used to also be known as the Seven Systems."

Her question was soft, gentle, "What happened?"

"The Time War happened." He paused and slid his arm around her back. "There were five planets, two suns, and about a dozen moons, but when the war was time locked, most of what was left got trapped inside. And since effects of the war ripple across time itself, the system will never look as it should. I went back once; right around the time I met you, just to see if I could find out what had survived. But the TARDIS couldn't get any proper readings and we couldn't get any closer without risking the lock."

"Why'd you even go back?"

He hesitated again, swallowed, and murmured, "It's where I'm from."

Rose's eyes widened and she inhaled sharply. She studied the weird little constellation with new intensity. With this knowledge in mind she realized that it looked rather…alone. There was ring of darkness around those few lights that no other light quite breached. Those five little lights, the last remains of what must've been a mighty syste, broken and alone in the dark with only each other for company. Much like the man beside her back when they'd first met.

"G-Gallifrey?" she whispered.

"I'm not even sure exactly what those five are since I can't risk getting close." the Doctor went on quickly. "Though, I'm pretty sure at least one of the suns made it or else we wouldn't be able to see them at all. But as for the rest, no one knows. No one will ever know."

There were so many things she could say, but none of them seemed appropriate. _I'm sorry_ just wouldn't do, not for that. So she opted not to say anything, reaching for his cheek and turning his face towards hers. His eyes met hers, so dark and sad, that she didn't hesitate, stretching up to press her lips tenderly against his. He wavered for only a moment, then his arm was tightening around her as he kissed her back.

It wasn't like any kiss they had shared before. Usually they were brushes on cheeks and foreheads, occasionally pecks on the lips and sometimes not as chaste, plus yesterday's brief, but fierce kiss in Hooverville. But this one was slow and tender, full of unspoken words, sorrow, and love. He dropped the skewer and curled his hand around the nape of her neck, pulling her closer and deepening the kiss. She made a tiny sound in the back of her throat and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She caressed the back of his head with one hand, running her fingers through his hair.

When her lungs felt like they would burst if she didn't breathe, Rose drew back. The Doctor placed a few more kisses to her lips, slowing them each time, then opened his eyes, just a few inches from hers. He smiled a bit and rubbed her cheekbone with his thumb.

_I love you,_ she thought.

"Thank you," she said. "For showing me."

* * *

A scream startled Rose out of her sleep the next morning and she jerked awake with a gasp. The first thing she realized was that she was still outside. The second was that she was using the Doctor's chest as a pillow. And third: there was a very strange clicking noise right above her. She looked up, catching the Doctor's eye, and then the both of them looked at the creatures standing over them.

There were three of them. Rusty-brown crabs the size of giant dogs, with four black eyes, oversized mouths, four pincers, and over half a dozen legs. They stared down at the two humanoids on the blankets. Their mouths opened and closed, revealing four rows of teeth, and clicked their pincers at them.

Rose stared at them for a second and then she let out a shrill scream. She leaped off the blanket, reaching for the cooler with the chicken legs in it, ripping the lid off, and she chucked the entire thing at them. She didn't wait to see if it hit, floundering through the said towards the TARDIS. Martha was standing in the doorway watching the scene in horror. She only just managed to jump out of the way as Rose barreled through.

Throwing the entire cooler, as it turned out, wasn't exactly an effective method. Thankfully the Doctor wasn't as alarmed by their appearance. After Rose threw the cooler he was able to actually get the chicken legs out and started pelting the crabs with them. When they got far enough away, he made a grab for his sonic screwdriver and chased them up the beach with the right setting. When he got back to their campsite, Rose and Martha were peeking out from behind the TARDIS doors.

He shook his head at them. "You can come out now. Honestly, they won't be back anytime soon."

After a moment, they slowly emerged from the TARDIS, Martha checking around the back of the ship for any sign of more crabs. When she was satisfied they were alone again, she joined the two of them by the extinguished campfire.

"I've been looking all over for you two," she said. "The kitchen, the library, both your rooms. I didn't think you'd stay out all night."

"Didn't mean to," the Doctor admitted. His sleep cycle had been interrupted earlier and after their day he'd been completely knackered. So when Rose fell asleep in his arms he didn't really have the heart to move her and ended up dozing off with her. Though waking up with her on his chest had been quite a pleasant surprise.

Martha looked between the two of them contemplatively then shrugged.

The Doctor was eager to move on after a day of sitting still, relatively speaking, so they packed up camp and went on their way, after securing a promise from the Doctor that they would come back one day.

After that, life in the TARDIS went on the way it always did. Well mostly.

They still gallivanted around, stirring up trouble, taking in the wonders of the universe, and occasionally saving people. They pretended to be nobility when it suited them and laid low when it didn't. They visited theme parks, went back to the holo-film theater, went to a restaurant in New York City and ate pork. They sat in the door of the TARDIS and hovered over nebulae and planets. They played with random coordinates.

Martha finally got her curling iron and hairdryer from the 80th century. She also received her TARDIS key around the same time, the Doctor exclaiming that he couldn't believe he'd forgotten to give her one sooner, after all he'd thought to upgrade her phone weeks ago. She wore the key around her neck proudly. She even made her first call home since departing, speaking to her mum and Tish briefly. She figured it was best they didn't speak for long after Tish mentioned that it had only been a day since the whole incident with Lazarus.

But she'd noticed a few changes in the weeks following their vacation on Kataa Flo Ko. The Doctor and Rose had already been acting like a couple long before she'd come onboard the TARDIS, so the fact that the dynamics in the ship had shifted somewhat wasn't glaringly obvious. But sometimes their playful banter was punctuated by kisses. Sometimes she'd find them curled up somewhere and Rose would be massaging his temples or playing with his hair, or vice versa. And sometimes she'd be looking for one or both of them and couldn't seem to find them.

The Doctor took them to the year 2011 and they went to the Harry Potter theme park in Florida. There would be dozens of Harry Potter themed parks and funlands over the next few centuries, better than this, but he insisted that this small section of the larger theme park would always have a certain charm that none of the others did, simply because it was the first.

They went everywhere at least twice. While they were in the queue for the castle ride, the Doctor pulled _The Philosopher's Stone_ out of his coat and read aloud in the way only he could to entertain them. He earned the attention of everyone nearby and the usual chatter died down so they could hear him talking over the hum of the ride and the talking pictures. When they got to the front, there were a few empty cars sent along as even the attendants wanted to hear for just a few more seconds.

After the ride, they rooted around the shop. Rose bought a Fawkes plushy, Martha got Crookshanks, and the Doctor got Hedwig. They went into Zonkos and Honeydukes, they had lunch at The Three Broomsticks, went to Ollivander's to watch the wand selecting ceremony (the Doctor spent their time in the queue reading from _The Philosopher's Stone_ again), and next door to Dervish and Bangles where they each bought a house scarf—Ravenclaw for the Doctor, Gryffindor for Rose, and Hufflepuff for Martha. Then they jumped ahead a few weeks and went to the midnight premier of the final movie.

Martha and Rose collaborated with the TARDIS one time when the Doctor was actually asleep, using what little piloting skills she had, and got her to take them to 2009 so Martha could finally see the latest Terminator movie. She went on her own and came back a few hours later having seen and been disappointed in the movie. They returned the TARDIS to the vortex with the Doctor completely unaware the trip ever occurred.

They went to visit Sarah Jane in 2008 and introduce her to Martha. The medical student was delighted to finally meet her. After scolding the Doctor for landing in the middle of her living room, Sarah Jane seemed equally pleased to have them and greeted Martha warmly. Her delight only increased further when Martha mentioned she'd heard a lot about her from the Doctor and Rose.

She invited them to stay for lunch and the three of them offered to help prepare sandwiches in the kitchen. As she was getting the bread out of the fridge, she gave them a shrewd look. "I don't suppose you know anything about Christmas. The spaceship and the Thames being drained?"

Rose snickered and the Doctor plastered on an innocent expression. "Maybe."

She elbowed him but his innocent smile did not falter. She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, we were there. It's a long story. An' before you ask, we were in the hospital, too."

Sarah Jane raised her eyebrows. "What hospital?"

"Royal Hope," Martha explained. "That's how the three of us met. I was working there and they were investigating when it got taken up to the moon."

"A hospital's going to get taken to the moon?" she asked sharply.

"Yeah, didn't you—uh oh. What date is it?"

"March 2nd, 2008."

As one, the girls turned to glare at the Doctor. He ignored them, sipping casually at his tea.

Sarah Jane sighed. "What date was he aiming for?"

"May or June."

"Not as bad as it could have been, then."

So they explained what they could about Royal Hope and warned Sarah Jane to stay away that day. Then they started telling her what they'd been up to over the past four months. As they spoke, Sarah Jane listened but she also took note of the way they were seated. Martha sat next to Rose, straight up in her chair, with her arms folded on the table. Rose and the Doctor's chairs were as close together as possible and based on the positions of their arms, she guessed they were holding hands under the table. Last time she'd seen them together, Rose had been by the Doctor's side almost constantly but to her it had looked like it was mostly for support. Like she would fall over without him there to hold her up.

Now they sat close together, holding hands, smiling and laughing and finishing each other's sentences as they told a story. Sarah Jane took a sip of her tea and caught Martha's eye briefly, lifting one eyebrow. The younger woman nodded once, accompanied by a roll of her eyes and a fond smile. So their relationship was progressing nicely, then. There was comfort in seeing that. She would never have to worry about Rose turning up on her door for help. Well, not again, anyway.

* * *

**Hey, if this keeps up, I'll be at 500 reviews by this chapter or next.**

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**If anyone needs me, I'll be watching Ben 10 on Netflix.**


	26. Heat

**OMFG GUYS THE NEW EPISODE (_HIDE)_. THIS EPISODE GAVE ME A HEART ATTACK IN A BAD WAY AND IN A GOOD WAY.****  
**

**HERE TAKE CHAPTER WHILE I FLAIL/DIE**

* * *

Martha was in the movies section of the library, sprawled out on a very puffy leather couch couch watching Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers. The Doctor planned to continue their theme park jaunts with a trip to a park based off the trilogy. It was about ten in the morning relative time and she was only about thirty minutes into it when the peacefulness of the TARDIS was suddenly interrupted.

The ship gave a violent shudder, an alarm blaring through the halls. Martha was thrown clear off the couch and all around her she heard the thudding of dozens of books and films hitting the floor. She pushed herself up once the shaking stopped and hurried to the console room. She heard the Doctor call their names and wondered not for the first time if the ship had a hidden PA system. The TARDIS had the decency to make it a quick trip to the console room and she met up with Rose just outside the door.

"Come on!" the Doctor, dressed in his blue suit, shouted from the ramp. "We locked on to a distress signal!"

He pulled open the door and stepped out. A second later they heard him say, "Whoa! Now that is hot!"

The emerged behind him and the moment they stepped out of the console room they were hit with a blast of hot air. They were in some sort of cramped service room, from the looks of it, surrounded by metal. There were machines and piping everywhere and steam wafted up from the floor. The whole place was tinged various shades of orange, as if illuminated by a bonfire, and smelt strongly of sulfur.

Martha gasped, pulling off her sweater, and tossed it back into the TARDIS. "It's like a sauna in here." She was immensely glad that they'd planned to go to a warm planet today, because she'd chosen to wear a tank top and a pair of shorts.

Rose, however, had been in the wardrobe to pass the time when they'd locked on to the emergency beacon, and had on jeans and long-sleeved peasant blouse. She immediately pulled her sleeves up to her elbows and tucked her hair behind her ears. "Where are we?"

"No idea," he said, leaning down to inspect one of the machines. "But these are venting systems. Working at full pelt, trying to cool down, uh, wherever it is we are." He straightened up and looked around the room for an exit. "Well, if you can't stand the heat."

Rose and Martha followed him over to the door. He pushed it open and stuck his head out experimentally then motioned that it was safe for them to follow. They stepped over the threshold and looked at the hallway stretching out before them, divided into smaller sections by doorways shaped similarly to the one they'd just stepped through.

"Oi, you three!" a man shouted as three people leaped through the nearest opening and came barreling towards them.

"GET OUT OF THERE!" the woman leading the group commanded.

"Seal that door now!" The two men pushed past and shut the door, sealing it quickly, and the woman stopped in front of them.

She was taller than both girls, wearing a black sleeveless shirt and workpants, and her brown hair stuck to her sweaty skin. "Who are you?" she demanded. "What are you doing on my ship?"

"Are you police?" the younger man asked.

The Doctor looked at the woman in confusion. "Why would be police?"

"We got your distress signal," Martha explained.

"If this is a ship why can't hear any engines?"

"It went dead four minutes ago," the woman said.

"So maybe we should stop chatting and get to engineering," he snapped then added, "Captain."

The captain took a deep breath and as she exhaled, a klaxon began to blare and a computerized voice announced, _"Secure Closure Active." _

"What?" the captain exclaimed.

"The ship's gone mad."

A shorthaired young woman, not much older than Rose herself, came running down the hallway, leaping through the doorways with a helmet and thick gloves in her arms. "Who activated secure closure?" she demanded. "I nearly to locked into area 27!"

Behind her, the door reading** Area 30** slammed shut. She ignored it, looking the trio up and down. "Who are you?"

"He's the Doctor, she's Rose, and I'm Martha. Hello," she said, sounding dazed. Rose glanced at her in concern. Martha moved past them almost mechanically towards a porthole where more orange light was streaming in.

Rose felt sweat starting to build up on her forehead and she reached up to wipe it off with the back of her hand. Above them the computer droned, "Impact projection: 42 minutes."

She froze with her hand on her forehead. Beside her, she felt the Doctor stiffen.

The captain swallowed. "We'll get out of this, I promise."

"Doctor," Martha said slowly.

"Forty-two minutes until what?" the Doctor asked.

Martha walked right up to the window, placing her hands on the ledge and peered out, just to confirm what she was actually seeing. "Doctor! Look!"

Rose and the Doctor darted past the captain and joined Marta at the window. The three of them looked out into the light. Before them, burning brightly in the darkness of space, the surface churning and swirling violently was a fiery yellow sun. A star that grew bigger with each passing moment as the ship hurtled towards it. In forty-two minutes the ship would hit it and then they would all die.

In her mind, the TARDIS hummed nervously. The _TARDIS_ was _nervous_! The Doctor darted away from the window but Rose continued to stare, completely captivated. The way it moved and seemed to radiate menace, it was like the star was…_alive_. Seconds after this occurred to her, Rose felt something knock against her mind. Hot, aggressive, like it was trying to force its way in. She backed away with a gasp, wrenching her eyes away from the sun. She rubbed them furiously and shook her head.

The forceful knocking continued and she heard at the edge of her mind, faint but full of rage and agony: _**BURN WITH ME.**_

_GET OUT! _She screamed in her mind and the TARDIS's nervous hum turned possessive. The voice fell silent and the knocking tapered off.

She was brought back to reality by the Doctor's pained shout. She whipped around in time to see him go flying back from the door that led to the TARDIS. She shouted his name and flew over to his side. She helped him sit up, curling her hand around his arm. The young woman leaped around them shut the door to the venting chambers, locking it firmly.

"But my ship's in there!" the Doctor protested.

"In the vent chamber?" the younger man asked in disbelief.

The Doctor pushed himself to his feet, pulling Rose up along with him, and rounded on the crew. "It's our lifeboat."

"It's lava," the older man said.

The young spoke up from by the thermostat. "The temperature's going mad in there. Up three thousand degrees in ten seconds and still rising."

"Channeling the air," the younger man explained. "The closer we get to the sun, the hotter that room's going to get."

"What about the TARDIS?" Rose asked.

The Doctor sighed. "She's got shields. Not that they'll do much good if we hit the sun. We need to fix the engines then we can steer the ship away. Simple."

The members of the crew looked surprised, like this idea hadn't occurred to them. The lot of them followed the Doctor down the nearby stairs to the engine room. Ducking under a few lines of thick pipes, they entered a long room full of machines and mechanisms, piping, switches, and miles worth of wiring. The Doctor exclaimed in surprise when he saw the state of the main engines. And while Rose didn't have much knowledge about mechanics even she could tell that the engines were wrecked. It looked like someone had completely gutted them, ripped out wires and springs, bashed parts in.

"Someone knew what they were doing," the Doctor growled.

The captain looked around. "Where's Korwin? Has anyone heard from him or Ashton?"

"No," said the older man.

The Doctor put on his glasses and wandered it over to a computer terminal and started pressing buttons.

"Do you mean someone did this on purpose?" Martha asked coming up behind him. He nodded grimly without looking up.

_Fantastic. Just bloody fantastic._ Rose put one hand on her hip and wiped her forehead with the other one. That meant sabotage. Sabotage meant there was at least one hostile onboard. As if they didn't already have enough trouble. Trapped on a ship en route with the sun with a person onboard who wanted to make sure they couldn't escape. Definitely what she'd planned to do today.

She watched the Doctor fiddling around with the screen while the captain shouted into the intercom. He glanced up at Rose once and she smiled half-heartedly. The crew rushed through the room, some of them looking for the missing members, others holding up bits of the ruined machinery in disgust and despair.

"Oh!" the Doctor exclaimed suddenly. "We're in the Torajji system! Lovely! You're a long way from home," he told his companions. "Half a universe away."

"Yeah, feels it." Martha said sarcastically.

He ignored her and rounded on the captain. "And you're still using energy scoops for fusion. Hasn't that been outlawed yet?"

The captain and the younger man, who was descending the stairs with a coil looped around his shoulder, glanced at each other guiltily.

She squared her shoulders. "We're due to upgrade next docking. Scannell, engine report."

The older man walked around to the terminal and sniffed then started fiddling with the controls. The computer beeped a few times. "No response," he said after a moment. He left the computer and went to check some of the wiring.

"What?" the captain demanded and took Scannell's place in front of the terminal to check the results herself.

"They're burnt out." Scannel tossed down some of the wiring in disgust. "The controls are wrecked. I can't get them back online."

"Oh, come on," the Doctor chastised, pulling his glasses off. "Auxiliary engines. Every craft's got auxiliaries."

The captain shook her head. "We don't have access from here. The auxiliary controls are in the front of the ship."

"Yeah, with twenty-nine password-sealed doors between us and them," Scannell added. "You'll never get there in time."

"So just override them." Rose suggested.

"No, 'sealed closure' means what it says. They're all deadlock-sealed."

"Of course they are."

"So a sonic screwdriver's no use," the Doctor muttered.

Scannell overheard him and threw his hands up. "Nothing's any use. We've got no engines, no time, and no chance!"

"Oh, listen to you! Defeated before you've even started! Where's your Dunkirk spirit?!" The Doctor turned to the captain. He was beginning to exude the power he always did when he decided the locals couldn't handle things on their own. He stood straighter, his eyes were just a bit darker, and he spoke with authority that usually made people jump at his orders. "Who's got the door passwords?"

The younger man spoke up then. "They're randomly generated. Reckon I know most of 'em. Sorry." He waved. "Riley Vashti."

"What are you waiting for, Riley Vashti? Get on it."

"Well, it's a two-person job—" he reached up behind them and pulled down a pack "—one to take this for the questions, the other to carry this." He pulled down a large clamp and slung the pack over his shoulder. "The oldest and cheapest security system around, eh, captain?"

"Reliable and simple, just like you, eh, Riley?" she countered.

"Try to be helpful, get abuse. Nice."

"I'll help you." Martha reached for the clamp. "Make myself useful."

"It's remotely controlled by the computer panel, that's why it needs two." Riley explained. He headed towards the stairs and Martha started to follow.

"Oi," the Doctor called seriously. Martha turned. "You be careful."

She smiled. "You too. Both of you."

"_McDonnell, it's Ashton_."

The captain, McDonnell, turned around sharply and went to the intercom. "Where are you?" she demanded into it. "Is Korwin with you?"

"_Get up to the medcentre now!"_ McDonnell glanced up at the crew then ran for the stairs.

The Doctor followed her and Rose started to go with them, but he shouted at her to stay there. She stopped mid-step and sighed, folding her arms. Right, like she'd be any use down here. No idea what century they were in and no idea what to do with the mess around her. She turned around and smiled awkwardly at the two remaining members of the crew.

"So, um, anything I can do to help?"

"That depends," the young woman said. "Can you actually do anything? 'Cos you haven't been very useful so far."

"Sorry, what's your name?"

"Erina."

"Right, Erina. I'm Rose. I don't really know much about engines myself, but I used to date a mechanic and I've been watching the Doctor do repair work on our ship for years. I'm a quick learner. So tell me what I can do to help."

Scannell nodded. "Start picking things up. Anything that looks repairable, give to me. If it's fried, toss it over there." He pointed at a small pile of rubbish.

Rose exhaled, "Right. Okay. She pulled the sleeves of her shirt up higher and wiped her brow again.

She started picking through the bits of mangled machinery. Anything that looked burnt or snapped she tossed into the pile. For every three she discarded there was at least one thing she found that she thought could be saved. Most of them were. It would've been a lot easier to focus if it wasn't getting so _hot_ in there. The Doctor and McDonnell returned a few minutes later with another man who introduced himself as Ashton. The two members of the crew immediately went to work repairing the engine.

The Doctor crouched down next to her and murmured so the rest of the crew wouldn't hear. "Are you feeling alright?" he asked.

"What do you mean?"

"The TARDIS is resilient, but even she has her limits. You told me you can feel what she does sometimes."

"There's nothing from her now. Well, she's nervous, but you feel that too, right?"

He nodded. "Anything else?"

"Earlier, I felt poundin'—" she jabbed her finger at her temple. "—like somethin' was tryin' to get in. It was…angry…and it…I heard it say '_burn with me_.'"

The Doctor's jaw twitched and there was a dangerous look in his eyes. "And how do you feel now? You don't feel like you're burning, do you?"

"No, but I am pretty hot."

He reached out felt her forehead with the back of his hand, then he checked her pulse. "You're slightly warmer than you should be given the current room temperature, but that could be for any number of reasons. You're nowhere near as hot as Korwin was, though, so that's good. Can you hear it anymore?"

She shook her head.

"Okay. Let me know if you start getting so hot it hurts."

"I will. Do you have any scissors?"

He started digging around his pockets. "I should. Why?"

"Because I can't deal with long sleeves right now."

"Oh. Good idea."

He pulled a pair of scissors from his jacket pocket and she quickly snipped off the sleeves of her shirt. She noticed the change almost immediately. The material hadn't been too thick but it still felt like she'd shucked a jacket and there was a definite breeze under there. She smiled in thanks. He kissed her forehead then stood up, walking to the intercom. He spoke into it, asking someone named Abi about how Korwin was doing.

"_He's under heavy sedation_," a female voice replied. _"I'm just trying to make sense of this data. Give me a couple of minutes and I'll let you know."_

The Doctor made a quick circuit of the room, checking on everyone's progress, then returned to the intercom and called up to Martha. Leaving the line open so they could communicate, he went to help Scannell.

Finished with sorting the bits and pieces she could find, Rose looked around for some other way to make herself useful. Erina recruited her to help lug a pair of thick cables from the back storage room. Then a toolbox. It was grunt work but if it helped avert their course then she didn't care. Martha and the Doctor talked back and forth of the intercom about one of the passwords, something to do with numbers being happy, and the crew got to hear one of the Doctor's infamous high-speed lectures, and all the while the computer issues routine warnings.

_Heat shields failing. Collision imminent. Impact in 30:50._

"We need a backup," the Doctor was saying when she and Erina returned to the main engine room. "In case they don't reach the auxiliary engines in time. Come on! Think!" he barked at the crew. "Resources, what have we got?

Marta's voice floated over the intercom again. _"Doctor?"_

"What is it now?!"

"_Who had the most number ones, Elvis or the Beatles? That's pre-downloads._"

The crew looked at each other in confusion. Rose was surprised—it had to be a long time in the future if they didn't know who Elvis or the Beatles were.

"Elvis," the Doctor said. "No! The Beatles. No, wait! Um…um…Oooh—" he hit the back of his head furiously. "What's that remix? Um…I don't know. I am a bit busy!"

"I think I've got a mate who might know it." Rose spoke up. "Shareen loves music. She's dated a few musicians, too."

"Call her up, then," the Doctor ordered. "Now, where was I? 'Here Comes the Sun.' No, resources!"

Rolling her eyes, Rose retreated up the stairs so she could call her friend without her overhearing the crew or the hissing of the engine room. She pulled her mobile out of her jeans and scrolled through her contacts, stepping through the junction to area twenty-eight. Luck was on their side, it seemed, because Shareen answered on the third ring.

"_Hey, Rose! Are you still in London? Have you seen the news? It's been absolutely mad around here this week. First the hospital, then supposedly this old boffin turned into a dirty great—"_

It was best to cut her off before she got going or they'd crash into the sun before she could get a word in edgewise. "Yeah, I saw. Listen, Ree, I don't have long. I need a favor."

She arrived at the door where Martha and Riley waited anxiously. She pointed to her phone and smiled.

"_What's wrong?"_

Rose swallowed. _I'm about to fly into a sun and die._ "Nothing, really, it's just a bit of a trivia. Who had more number ones: Elvis or the Beatles?"

"_Elvis,_" Shareen replied immediately.

"Elvis," Rose repeated, "ta."

"Is she sure?" Riley demanded. "We've only got one shot. Otherwise the whole system freezes."

"Are you absolutely sure?"

"'_Course I'm sure! C'mon, bit o' faith."_

"Right. Thanks, Ree. You're a lifesaver. I'll talk to—"

The intercom crackled to life and the voice of Abi the nurse echoed throughout the entire ship. "_This is med-centre. Urgent assistance requested! Urgent assistance!"_

"_What was that?"_ Shareen asked.

"It's the telly. I've got to go. I'll talk to you later, bye!" Rose said quickly and shut her phone. Riley was already typing the answer into the computer.

"_Urgent assistance!"_

"_Abi, they're on their way_._"_ Erina replied over the com.

Martha, Riley, and Rose looked glanced at each other nervously. There was a faint ding and then with a hiss, the door unlocked and slid open. Martha gave herself a little shake and detached the clamp. They ran on through to the next door and Rose headed back towards the engine room.

"_What's happening to you?"_

"_**Burn with me**_**.**"

Rose's eyes widened. It was the same voice before, the one she'd heard in her head. There it was again, loud and menacing, only this time it was real. She looked over her shoulder at Martha for a moment and saw her friend looking terrified back at her.

"_**Burn with me." **_

Rose fled back the way she'd come, leaping over the junction points. She caught herself on a bit of piping and swung around, bounding down the stairs to the engine room, calling the Doctor's name.

"_**Burn with me." **_

"_K-Korwin, you're sick!"_

"Doctor!"

"He's gone up to the medcentre." Erina shouted. "No! Don't go up there!" she added when Rose turned to go.

"_**BURN…WITH…ME!**_"

For a moment, everyone in the ship was frozen in place. Waiting, listening. And then Abi started to scream in agony.

The computer droned out the time until impact once more.

The screams ended abruptly.

They waited, expecting to hear her scream again or that voice to growl some more. But all they heard was Martha, asking what that had been. The Doctor told them to just keep going.

Rose gave herself a quick shake, rubbing the sweat off the back of her neck. There was nothing she could do to help and it was stupid to run off on her own if there was something loose on the ship with them that wanted them all to fall. Whatever that was, she was willing to bet it was what had sabotaged the engine.

Besides, she had her own problem. It was getting hotter by the second and she was starting to wonder if it was more than just their proximity to the sun. He'd the TARDIS could handle extreme temperatures but to what extent? What would happen if it became too hot in that room for the TARDIS to handle? For whatever reason, Rose and the TARDIS were somehow linked. If the ship burned would she feel it, too?

"Rose." Rose blinked. Erina was standing right in front of her. "Hey, you in there? I asked if you could help me get these parts."

"Oh, yeah, sure." She nodded, rubbing her forehead.

Erina frowned. "You alright?"

"We're about thirty minutes away from crashing into a star and it feels like we're in a sauna. Yeah, I'm doin' great. Come on, let's get those tools so we can get the hell out of here."

"Where are you from?" Erina asked as they ascended the stairs together.

The Doctor had said this system was half a universe away from Earth and she had no idea how long it would take to reach here from there in this day and age. She figured it was best not to say. "We're just travellers, that's all."

Thankfully, Erina seemed to find this answer acceptable because she didn't press it. "Yeah, well, not me. Not for much longer. I met Riley a few months back while I was workin' as a waitress. He told me comin' to space would be great. Told me I'd have the time of me life. He helped me get this job and now I'm at the bottom of the heap. As soon as we dock on Alpha, I'm outta here."

"I'm sorry."

Erina grunted.

"_Everybody listen to me!"_ Captain McDonnell ordered over the intercom. Rose and Erina paused, looking up. _"Something has infected Korwin. We think… He killed Abi Lerner."_

So it seemed Rose had correctly guessed Abi's fate. Beside her, Erina grimaced and looked like she might cry and opened a storage compartment. She started pulling things out and handing them to Rose.

"_None of you must go anywhere near him, is that clear?_"

"_Understood Captain_," replied Ashton over the intercom. "_Erina? Get back here with that equipment."_

Looking annoyed, Erina grabbed the intercom control and jabbed her finger at the mute button. "Whatever you say, _boss_." she growled. "I swear, I hate him sometimes. It's always go there, come back, fetch this, carry these, make drinks, sweep up."

"I know how you feel." Rose grumbled. "I used to work in a shop. Some of the customers—aah!"

While she'd been speaking, Erina had removed the last part they needed and shut the door, revealing a tall, hulking figure wearing a work mask. He breathed heavily, rasping, like a less mechanical Darth Vader. Both girls gasped and stepped backwards.

"**Burn with me**," the man growled with the voice from the intercom. The tapping sensation from earlier returned. This time it pounded into her skull, causing her temples to throb painfully.

With a cry, Rose dropped the parts and clutched at her head. Heat started to seep into her mind through the cracks steeping from the place where the thing had punched at her shields. She could almost see it: the solid white walls protecting her, the red cracks in it, and fire seeping through.

_**Burn with me**_.

"**Burn with me." **

"_No!_ " Rose screamed and her voice carried a faint echo. In her mind, a wolf howled at the invasion. She skittered away from him, lashing out with one hand. "_Get out of my head!_ "

The thing that used to be Korwin took a heavy step backwards at the force she'd exerted from her mind. The fire receded enough for her to focus. Grabbing Erina's hand, she pulled the startled young woman towards the stairs. They went upwards instead of back down to the engine room. Korwin followed, but they were quicker.

She had to get to the Doctor so he could fix the damage that thing had caused. Next time she might not be able to fight it off and she didn't want to know what would happen if it got all the way through.

* * *

**SO apparently I'm making the "bad" episodes good. Y'all should review. :D **

**and OMFG WATCH THE NEW EPISODE. **


	27. Burning

**Next week is finals week and then...SUMMER!**

* * *

The Doctor's hearts nearly stopped when Rose burst into the medcentre with the young engineer (what was her name? Erina, that's it), both of them breathing like they'd run a marathon. Erina's pupils were dilated with fear and she quivered from the adrenaline racing through her veins. Rose's eyes were shining faintly, her face was twisted in grimace, and she let out a cry of pain, clutching at her head.

The Doctor dropped the scan results and was at her side immediately.

"Tell me what happened," he ordered. Rose whimpered and clutched at her head, unable to articulate a reply.

"K-Korwin!" Erina stuttered. "He…he's d-down there—I dunno if he followed us—but he started talkin' an'—an' she just started screaming!"

"It's trying to get in my head!" Rose gasped. "It burns!"

She opened her eyes and gazed up at him pleadingly, lowering her hands from her head. She saw his jaw tighten and he put his hands on her temples. She nodded once and closed her eyes. She felt his mind slip into hers, passing through the shields with ease, surprisingly cool compared to the fire circling the edges. He made a low growling noise as he assessed the damage and started to repair her existing shields and erect new ones. There was another presence, too, working alongside him: the TARDIS trying to protect her, even as she focused on protecting herself from the fiery parasite.

McDonnell, Scannell, and Erina looked on in confusion and with a hint of suspicion.

The burn had faded considerably by the time the Doctor withdrew from her mind. "That should do for now, but I don't know how long it'll last." His voice was dangerously flat. "Whatever infected Korwin is trying to take you as well. I tried, but its taken hold on the edge of your mind, just beyond the shields, and I can't remove it. We don't have that kind of time. When exactly did this start?"

"Just after we got here. When I was lookin' at the sun."

She could see the gears in his mind turning. All of this had something to do with the sun. They both knew it. But what? What could a sun do? Was the parasite using it for power?

"You've kept it out on your own until now, but your proximity to Korwin must've made it more powerful. Try to keep away from him and, just to be safe, don't look out the window anymore."

She nodded. "But, Doctor, my mind, it's really close to the TARDIS's. What happens if whatever this is…gets to her through me?"

The Doctor rounded on McDonnell. "Now we've really got problems. You're husband's gone, and trust me when I say we don't want Rose to go the same way. Is there anything you can think of that would've provoked this? Nobody's working on anything secret, 'cause it's vital that you tell me."

"I know every inch of this ship," Captain McDonnell replied tersely. "I know every detail of my crew's lives. There is nothing."

He glared at her. "Then why is this thing so interested in you?"

McDonnell shook her head. "I wish I knew."

He took a deep breath and backed away. "Erina, you don't feel anything, do you? Nothing burning?"

"No, I feel fine, but—oh my God, _ABI!_" she shrieked, noticing for the first time the shape scorched into the wall, and realized what her fate would've been if Rose hadn't pulled her away.

"_Doctor, we're through to area 17_." Martha called over the intercom. Rose sighed with relief when she heard her voice.

He pressed the _All_ button and spoke into the microphone. _"Good, keep going. You've got to get to area one and reboot those engines."_

Martha rolled her eyes. Bloody alien. They were going as fast as they could and she was exhausted. The heat was getting worse with every passing second and her muscles were absolutely aching. She hefted the clamp up and headed for the door. Behind her, Riley groaned and smacked the computer. She raced back to his side to see what the matter was.

"Everything on this ship is so cheap!" he complained. Something banged back the way they came and they both turned. "Who's there?" he called nervously.

The banging continued so he headed for the door. She set the clamp down on the counter and followed him. A figure appeared in the smoke, tall, wearing work clothes, gloves, and a mask. "Is that Korwin?"

"No, wait a minute." Riley took a step closer. "Oh, Ashton. What are are you doing?"

"**Burn with me." **

Martha froze. Those words. It wasn't the exact same voice, but those were the words Korwin had said over the intercom. Whatever had taken Korwin must've got Ashton, too. She automatically glanced around, locating any possible escapes and trying to figure out which one was most likely to work, just like she'd been taught to do. But usually it was the Doctor who found the way out and they followed as quick as they could.

Riley tensed, but he kept moving forward. She reached out, seizing the back of his shirt. "Don't, you idiot!" she hissed. "He's been infected!"

"**Burn with me! BURN WITH ME!"**

Ashton lifted his hand to the visor. He was blocking the way back and the way forward was sealed with no chance of getting it open in time. There was only one thing to do. She slammed her hand against the biggest button on the wall next to her (it was always the biggest button) and a hatch slid open.

"MOVE!" she bellowed, yanking on his shirt again. They scrambled through the door and she flew across the room, smacking her hand against the button to close the door. She rested against the wall for a moment, loving and hating the familiar buzz of adrenaline, and tried to control her breathing. It was so damn hot.

Korwin appeared in the doorway and Riley scrambled to unlock the next door. He pressed a series of numbers on a keypad and the hatch slid open.

"What is that?" Martha demanded.

"Escape pod. In, quick!"

"But—"

"Go!" He shoved her towards the opening. She climbed through, moving aside so he could get in and he shut the door behind her.

"Now what, Einstein?" she demanded. "We're trapped!"

"No, don't worry," Riley tried to reassure her. "He shouldn't be able to—"

"_Airlock sealed. Jettison escape pod_."

She rounded on him. "I'm sorry, what was that? He shouldn't be able to do what? Because it sounds like he's about to SEND US FLYING INTO THE BLEEDIN' SUN!"

Riley lunged for the keypad and started typing frantically to halt the ejection sequence. She leaned over to the com unit next to the keypad and pressed the button labeled _All_.

"Doctor!" she shouted. "We're stuck in an escape pod in Area 17! Ashton's been infected, he's tryin' to jettison us! HELP!" She turned to Riley. "Can you stop it?"

"I'm trying, I'm trying…"

"_We're coming, Martha!"_Rose shouted through the com.

"_Jettison: held._" the computer reported.

Riley sighed, resting his head against the wall. "Thank you."

"Now get us out of here before—"

"_Jettison: reactivated._"

She pounded her hands against the glass, trying and failing to keep from panicking. It wouldn't help anyone but she was buzzing with adrenaline and the urge to move. Riley was good, he knew this ship and he knew computers. He was muttering to himself about sequences. Confident, like the Doctor was and that helped calm her a bit. He just had to hold Ashton off until they got here. He could do it.

"_Jettison: held. Escape pod stabilized."_

They both sighed in relief and she put a hand on his shoulder. "You're good. You're really good."

Almost immediately the attack from Ashton resumed. Riley groaned and sighed in the same breath and started typing again furiously. Martha kept an eye on Ashton. She wished she could see under the helmet. She'd always been more afraid of things in masks during their travels. She couldn't see them so it was easy for her brain to conjure up fears from the tiniest details. With Ashton, it was the visor. Black, flat, and she knew his eyes were staring at them from behind it. Then his head turned, looking at something off to the side. The Doctor. It had to be.

An alarm blared within the escape pod and the computer reported the restarting of the jettison sequence. Riley jerked away.

"He's crushed the circuit. I can't stop it." Then he seemed to realize what this would mean and he turned to Martha, panicked. "I can't stop it!"

"Try!" she ordered and moved back to the door. Maybe there was something she could do. A lever or a switch or a button to open the door. After all there had to be a way to escape the escape pod once it landed.

On the far side of the airlock, the thing that used to be Ashton stepped away from the ruined controls towards the two time travelers.

Rose waited behind him in the doorway, holding her head as the thing tried to bash its way into her mind again. The Doctor walked towards Ashton, his entire body radiating power and confidence.

"Come on," he goaded. "Let's see you."

Ashton approached him, breathing heavily like Darth Vader, until they stood nose to nose.

"I wanna know what you really are."

Ashton started to comply, lifting his hand to the visor the way Korwin had.

She moaned in pain. "Doctor…"

Where the fire pounded against her mind there was suddenly ice. She inhaled sharply, her back straightening at the same time Ashton suddenly shrieked in pain. He backed an doubled over, grunting and gurgling. Moments later he'd recovered. He stared at them for a moment then shoved past the Doctor like he didn't even see him there. Rose jumped out of the doorway, pressing herself into the wall as he passed. The pounding in her head didn't return, even when he was within touching distance, and she exhaled in relief.

Except now he was heading for the engine room and Korwin was down there somewhere, too.

"McDonnell!" the Doctor shouted into the com. "Ashton's heading in your direction and he _is_ infected."

"_Thank you, Doctor. …Korwin's dead."_

Rose peered through the window out into the airlock. In the pod just a few feet away she could see Martha searching the door with her hands. Rose pounded her fist against the door. "Doctor—Doctor she's in there!"

"_Airlock decompression completed," _droned the computer. _"Jettisoning pod_."

"NO!" Rose shouted.

Martha looked up and for a moment their eyes met. She tapped on the window. Rose broke the contact, turning to the Doctor. "Do something," she demanded.

The Doctor examined the controls helplessly. "I can't. There's nothing I can do; they're completely wrecked."

Rose knew there was no way of keeping it off her face when she looked back through the glass and she saw the exact moment when Martha realized their fate. The Doctor joined Rose at the window and they stared at their friend as the pod disengaged and began to float away. They could see the tears starting to trickle down her cheeks. She reached up with one hand to wipe them away and placed her other one on the glass.

Rose pulled her mobile from her pocket and dialed Martha's number. Martha didn't look away as she pulled it out, opened it, and pressed it against her ear

"_Sorry." _

"There's nothing we can do."

"_I know. …It's been great, really." _

"Martha—"

"No," the Doctor growled suddenly. "There might be a way." He lunged towards the intercom and shouted for Scannell to bring him a spacesuit.

"_Rose?" _

She shook her head quickly. "Um—um, the Doctor's got an idea. Just hang on."

"_Alright…. But—but just in case… will you…will you take my stuff home? Tell my family what happened. Show them the pictures so they knows you're not lying." _

"It's not going to come to that."

"_But just in case it does. Tell them I love them. And tell them I didn't regret travelling with you. I wouldn't have missed this for anything." _

"I'll see you in a bit," she told Martha. "Just hang in there." She flipped the phone shut and held it into her hands.

"Rose." The Doctor gripped her arms tightly. "I need you to trust me."

"Always. What are you going to do? Ah!" she gasped, her hand flying to her head as she felt another burst of cold on the edge of her mind.

"What's wrong?"

"I think…I think Ashton's down." Rose said slowly, lifting her head.

Scannell and Erina jumped through the door with an orange spacesuit that looked too much like the ones from Krop Tor and a helmet. She recoiled at the sight of it. The Doctor let go of her arms and took the suit from him wordlessly. He pulled it on quickly and Rose helped him with the zippers and fastenings, just like she had last time. She knew what he was going to do now or at least she had a general idea. There was something out there on the hull that could bring them back and he was going to go for it. She knew he had to try just as she knew

"I can't let you do this." Scannell blurted.

"You're wasting your breath, Scannell. You're not gonna stop me."

"You wanna open an airlock in flight, on a ship spinning into the sun. No one can survive that!"

"Oh, just you watch."

"It's suicide! This close to the sun, the shields will barely protect you."

Rose's fingers froze and she lifted her eyes to his. He gazed down at her, reminding her of her trust in him and that there was no other option. If he didn't do this then Martha would die. Swallowing, she continued adjusting the straps and then her hands fell limply to her sides.

The Doctor spoke to Scannell as she worked. "If I can boost the magnetic lock on the ship's exterior, it should re-magnetize the pod. Now, while I'm out there, you have got to get the rest of those doors open. We _need_ those auxiliary engines. Rose, go with him."

"No, I'm not leaving you." she argued. "Erina can go."

"It's too late!" Scannell cried.

The Doctor fixed him with a severe look. "I'm not just going to let her die."

He started to put his helmet on, but Rose seized his face, yanking it down to hers, and mashed their lips together. She pulled back quickly (far too quickly, in his opinion, but time was of the essence) and tapped him firmly on the chest. "I want that spacesuit back in one piece, you got that?"

He smiled and slid the helmet into place. "Yes, sir."

Rose watched as the door slid open and he stepped into the airlock. She moved up to the window and focused on his back instead of the burning sun as best she could. His shoulders were rising and falling faster than normal. Was he afraid? Realizing he was actually afraid for himself didn't help her at all. She wished he would turn around so she could see his face, if only for a second.

"_Impact in 11:15. Heat shield failing. At ten percent."_

When the Doctor opened the airlock and the sun streamed in at full force, she had to look away. No looking at the sun he'd said and she was inclined to agree. She ducked away from the window and looked up at Erina and Scannell. They were just standing there wasting precious seconds. She snapped at them.

"Well, don't just stand there! Go! Get the doors open!" she ordered.

The two of them jumped into action. Erina picked up the clamp and attached it to the door while Scannell got to work typing. McDonnell leaped over the threshold and told them Ashton had been dealt with. She looked around then demanded to know where the Doctor had gone. Rose jerked her head towards the airlock. McDonnell's eyes widened.

"The pod jettisoned. The crazy bastard's trying to pull them back," Scannell explained. "Ugh! Captain, what's your favorite dessert?"

"Næmarian Chízkí," she answered without looking, hands on her hips. "You let him go?" she demanded.

"He had to try. She's family." Rose closed her eyes and pressed her hands to her temples, trying to ignore the tapping she was beginning to feel against her shields. It wasn't strong enough to be a proper knock yet, but that thing was trying to get into her head again. With Korwin and Ashton down, she was the only other one onboard it had any hold on and it wanted her.

After Scannell called on the com for another answer, McDonnell went to help him and Erina with the questions. Rose turned to the intercom unit and pressed the button that linked to the suit coms. "You alright, Doctor?"

"_I can't!"_ he screamed after a moment and her heart nearly stopped. _ "I can't reach. I don't know how much longer I can last."_

"Doctor, you've got to. She needs you! I believe in you," she added. She waited a moment to see if he'd say something. When he didn't, she let go of the button and sighed, rubbing her forehead.

"_Escape pod: recalled. Impact in 9:30. Heat shields failing. At eight percent."_

Rose exhaled in relief, pressing her hands to her face. "Oh, thank God." she whispered.

_**Fear **_flared in the back of her mind where she was linked to TARDIS, so intense and powerful that her knees buckled. She cried out as she fell to her knees, throwing her hands out to catch herself. _She saw the Doctor's face, the sun, and an angry voice roared, __**"He shall burn with me."**_

"_Doctor, close the airlock now!"_ Scannell's voice echoed painfully around her.

The TARDIS cried out again and Rose opened her mouth and screamed.

"_Rose! Rose, are you alright?"_ Scannell shouted.

She knelt there gasping for a few seconds, then pushed herself to her feet and pressed the talk button. "'m fine, but I think somethin's wrong."

"_McDonnell's on her way."_

The airlock door slid open and Rose turned. Seconds passed and the Doctor did not emerge. She called his name but he didn't respond. She was afraid of what she'd see if she looked around the corner, but she was bracing herself to do so when he fell out of the airlock. He hit the floor almost immediately and struggled away from the opening. Martha emerged from the escape pod, calling his name as Rose dropped down beside him.

She reached out to roll him over and he turned sharply, his face twisted into a grimace. He opened his eyes and a bright light like the sun filled the socket. She recoiled as he rasped, "Stay away from me!"

She landed on her bum and skittered back. Whatever it was started to pound against her head again, more intense than before. She tried to grab her head, but Martha and Riley yanked her up by her arms as Captain McDonnell ran up behind them.

"No!" the Doctor shouted. Martha and Riley glanced at each other in confusion. "Leave her alone—argh! She's done nothing!"

The Doctor pressed himself against the wall, trying to get away from them even as they moved closer. "It's your fault, Captain McDonnell!"

The three of them looked at her. McDonnell's breathing increased and she glanced at them then pointed further down the junctions. "Riley, get down there and help Scannell and Erina with the answers. GO!"

Riley ran.

"You mined that sun!" the Doctor screamed at her. "Stripped its surface for cheap fuel." He panted through clenched teeth, gripping the wall with one hand. All the while, his eyes remained firmly shut. "You should have scanned for life!"

"I don't understand."

But Rose did. Before, when she'd been looking at the sun, she'd noticed the way it moved and seemed to be glaring at them. Just after that was when the pounding in her head had begun and the heat. The sun. Trying to get into her mind. She'd only looked at it for a few seconds and it hadn't been able to get a good hold on her before she'd broke contact. That must've been how Korwin got infected. He'd looked into the sun for too long and he didn't have the same defenses she did. It must have crawled right on in.

The Doctor had been out there, mere miles from it, exposed to the heat, and looking at it for who knows how long? It had smashed all his mental barriers, burned right through them like flash paper.

"That sun is alive! A living organism!" He paused, panting, then went on. "You scooped out its heart, used it for fuel, and now it's screaming!"

"What do you mean?!" McDonnell demanded. "How can a sun be alive?! Why's he saying that?"

"Because it's living in me."

McDonnell gasped, realizing finally what she'd done. Korwin, Ashton, and Abi's had died, the ship was about to burn up and they were all about to die, and it was all her fault. "Oh my God…"

"Humans!" the Doctor shouted, writhing in pain. "You grab whatever's nearest and bleed it dry. _Aaaarh_! _You should have scanned!_"

"It takes too long! We'd be caught! Fusion scoops are illegal!"

"And look at what you've done!" Rose snarled at her, the pounding at her head worsening. McDonnell took one look at her and backed away.

Rose thought she might have said, "Oh my God!" but she couldn't hear her over the Doctor's scream of agony.

"You've got to freeze me!" he gasped, trying to push himself up.

"What?" Martha demanded. She stepped closer and grabbed onto his arm. Ignoring the fire trying to seep into her head, Rose grabbed his other arm and together they hauled him up.

"Stasis chamber! You gotta keep me…below minus two-hundred. Freeze it out of me!" He screamed again and gasped for air. Now instead of anger, he looked afraid, like he'd just realized something. "It'll use me to kill you if you don't! The closer we get to the sun, the stronger it—aaaaaaggggh!" He doubled over in pain. "Quickly! Quickly!"

Rose moved his arm around her shoulders and rubbed the back of his head, trying to sooth him. "Come on, I've got you." she told him and his face turned towards hers. He looked so scared.

The four of them moved quickly through the areas and tried to keep from dropping him. The Doctor did his best to keep himself upright but he couldn't help the pained whimpering, grunting, and screaming. Every time he went down, McDonnell would turn around and help them get him back on his feet, but other than that she just let the girls carry him. They struggled when they got to the stairs since they were only wide enough for one person, maybe two. They had to turn and step sideways, Rose pulling and Martha and McDonnell doing their best to push him up. By the time they got to the medcentre, they were all exhausted and the Doctor was incapable of keeping himself upright for much longer.

Rose briefly noticed Ashton's dead body in the corner and realized what must've happened to him.

McDonnell grabbed his legs and the three of them lifted him onto the bed of the stasis chamber. Martha immediately snatched up the instruction manual, set it down on the stand beside the chamber, and flipped through the pages. Rose backed away from the Doctor, holding her head. She could _feel_ the sun shoving its way through, bit by bit, smashing through the walls, strengthened by their proximity.

Martha and McDonnell were yelling at each other, but she barely heard them.

_**You will all burn. Don't try to fight it. Burn with me, you wretched thing.**_

_I said get out of my head!_

"Rose? Where are you? Rose!" the Doctor yelled and she realized he'd been calling for her for the past few seconds. She looked up and saw the terror in his face, thinking she'd left him.

"I'm here," she said, stumbling forward. She grasped his hand with both her own and his fingers locked around her. "It's okay. I'm right here."

"Ten seconds, Martha. That's all I'll be able to take!"

He screamed again, gripping Rose's hand so tightly that it hurt. "Get rid of it or I could kill you," he growled darkly. "I could kill you all."

The Doctor cried out and Rose ducked her head, kissing his hot cheek. "Shhh," she soothed. Freeing one hand, she used it to brush the hair away from his face.

"I'm scared," he whimpered. "I'm so scared."

She kissed his cheek again. "I know. I'm scared too. It's gonna be alright."

"It's bloody killing me! You know what that means!"

"It's not gonna happen. You can do this, just hold on for a few more seconds. Martha—" she looked up at her "—please tell me you know how to work that."

"I think so," Martha said.

"R-Rose…" He shrieked, his back arching. "I don't… I don't want to…"

Putting her hands on either side of his face she kissed his burning lips, flinching when the pain in her head spiked. "I won't leave you," she told him. "No matter what."

Then she stepped back and nodded to Martha, who was gripping a lever with both hands. The medical student took a deep, shaky breath and pushed the lever forward. The bed slid back into the stasis chamber, clicking into place. Martha punched in the numbers and started the process.

The screams that followed were worse than almost any sound she'd ever heard him make. The cold was hurting the piece of the sun in her mind and while it was a relief to her it was agonizing to the Doctor. Tears rolled down her cheeks and she sobbed as he shrieked. She wanted to reach out and hold him through it the way Martha was holding her. Instead she clamped her hands over her ears so she wouldn't have to hear him. She couldn't bear it.

When the machine abruptly powered down she knew before he screamed that it was too soon. Martha frantically pushed the power button, to no avail.

"No!" the Doctor roared. "You can't stop it! Not yet!"

Martha spun around and demanded, "What happened?!"

"Power's been cut in engineering." McDonnell realized.

"But who's down there?"

McDonnell swallowed. "Leave it to me." She departed without another word.

The girls watched her go then looked at each other for a second. Martha tried to get the machine working again and Rose put her hand on the only part of the Doctor that wasn't in the chamber: his ankle. She wasn't even sure if he could feel it through the suit and boot but she hoped. He was screaming again and she watched the ice crystals covering his body begin to melt. His temperature was rising so quickly that the water evaporated before even properly turned to steam. Within mere seconds he was nearly back to where he'd been before.

"Do somethin'!" she shouted.

"I'm trying!" Martha snapped. "But it's not working!"

The Doctor grunted through his teeth. "Listen, both of you! I've only got a moment You gotta go!"

"No way!"

"We're not leaving you."

"Get to the front! Vent the engines!" he ordered. "Sun particles in the fuel, get rid of them."

"You go," Rose told Martha. "I'm staying."

"No!" the Doctor yelled. "You have to go, Rose! It wants you next! Please, I don't—AAARGH! I—I don't want to kill you!"

Rose inhaled shakily and backed away from the chamber.

"We'll be back for you," the medical student promised. Martha grabbed her hand and Rose let her pull her out the door.

They thudded down the stairs and raced through the corridors. Ducking under piping and leaping over the thresholds, and twisting to avoid hitting the machinery. When Rose stumbled, the fire almost through to the last layer of protection in her mind, Martha seized her arm and hauled her onwards. They were nearly in the sun now, the computer indicating less than five minutes until they were swallowed up by it.

_**You will all burn with me!**_

"_GET OUT OF ME!_" Rose screamed.

Her legs stopped responding and she went down. It like someone had suddenly blocked the connection between her brain and her legs cutting off all control and most of the sensation. Martha grunted, struggling to keep them both from falling, and only just managed to ease Rose to the ground. "No! Just go!" she told Martha. "Give it back!"

Martha squeezed her arm once and left without a word. Rose sighed and used her arms to pull herself over to the wall. Dimly she registered that what should be an unbearably hot surface was only borderline uncomfortable. She clutched at her head, pressing her hands to her ears to block out the sounds of the ship and the computer counting down the seconds to their deaths.

The sun had broken into her mind and now the heat slowly spreading through her body as its mind tried to reach her soul.

_Please stop_, she begged.

_**You will all burn for this.**_

_But we didn't do anything! We only came to help._

_**You came to help those who would use me for their own gain. You are no better.**_

Rose growled at it_._ She could see it clearly in her mind. There was only one layer separating her from the fire. As soon as it got through it would take her over as surely as it was taking over the Doctor.

But then something occurred to her. She should've realized ages ago.

_I'm just a human. You should've burned through me a while ago. Why haven't you? …You _can't_, can you?_

The fire was circling, attacking, but it didn't even make a dent in this last wall. Something was protecting her. Something stronger than any defense the Doctor had given her. Something neither Korwin nor Ashton had. She tried to move again and found that her legs were still impossibly heavy and almost numb. It had enough of a hold now to keep her in place, to make it feel like flames were licking at her skin, but it couldn't completely take her.

_You can't kill me._

_**No. But he can.**_

"R-Rose…?"

She heard his voice calling her name even through her hands. She opened her eyes and saw the Doctor on the floor at the entrance to the area. "Doctor?"

His head snapped around and she saw horror flit across his face as he realized how close she was. **"**No! You have to…have to go!" he grunted, crawling towards her. "Run!"

"I can't."

"Rose, _please_!"

"I can't," she repeated, struggling to move. She shoved against the invading force and willed her body to cooperate. She managed to scoot a few inches to the right before her limbs locked up again, heat coursing through.

The Doctor grunted, struggling against every movement towards her. "I can't fight it…" He screeched wordlessly, face contorting in pain.

"You've got to for just a bit longer."

The Doctor was just a few feet from her now, struggling with the last of his energy to halt his progress. Their puppet master would use him to kill her in a few moments. …And that was okay. She'd rather he kill her now than let the sun use her to slow down or even kill the others.

That didn't stop tears from dripping down her cheeks.

At least her Mum wouldn't be left to wait in an empty flat. She was happy, safe, and loved.

He screamed again wordlessly and when he stopped she seized this one last chance to tell him what she should have a long time ago. "I love you, Doctor, no matter what happens."

His entire body was shaking with the effort to hold still. "I…Rose…" he gasped, arching his back, face twisting. Then his eyes opened, shining with the power and fury of the sun. She flinched away from him. "**Burn with me.** **Burn with me, Rose!**"

"_No!_ Give him back!"

_**Burn with us**_**, **it thought as the Doctor screamed.

"Give him back!"

The ship lurched suddenly and, unable to control her limbs, Rose went flying. She collided with the Doctor and they both went rolling across the room. He cried out in pain and over that she heard the computer saying something about a fuel dump.

_THERE, TAKE IT!_ She thought viciously and the TARDIS's angry hum echoed her words. She could feel the Doctor trembling next to her, gasping for air and choking on his screams. _AND LET HIM GO._

For the first time, the voice was missing its pained edge. Now there was only anger with more than a hint of a challenge. It still had control, after all. _**Why should I?**_

_Because if you do not return him to Us, We will rip your mind from this star, and place you in another that's being sucked into a black hole while your body is left behind to sustain the people here._

_**You cannot do such a thing.**_

The Doctor shrieked again.

_Try Us. _

The sun did not respond verbally, but Rose felt the burning presence receding from her mind. Behind her, the Doctor's scream slowly died away into panting. The ship lurched again and Rose found she could move of her own accord. She heard a thud as the Doctor hit the wall and a second later she crashed into him. Lightning fast, he wrapped his arms around her and held her close as the ship lurched again, violently.

_**Next time there will be no mercy…**_ the sun whispered before it faded completely from her mind.

As the ship's flight evened out, Rose rolled over in his grasp and stared into his normal brown eyes. She laughed in relief, reaching up to touch a wrinkle just below his eye. "She did it."

His answering smile was as bright as the—oh, maybe not the best expression to use at the moment. The Doctor pulled her even more tightly to him and she felt his laughter resonate through her. They were sticky with sweat and would be covered in bruises soon but neither cared. She held his head in her hands while he pressed kisses along the side of her face and the top of her head. She laughed once more, the tears leaking from her eyes now ones of joy, then pulled his mouth to hers.

* * *

**:3 oop. **

**I just passed 500 reviews. Yaaaay. At this rate I'll have 1000 before the story is over. Yus. Y'all know the drill. Drop me a review, tell everybody and their sister. **


	28. Cold

**I am officially done with my freshman year of university. ****WOOT WOOT.**

**There's something rather significant about this chapter. Actually, three somethings.**

**Also, quick note to my American readers: all temperatures are in Celsius.**

*****REVISED MAY 15TH, 2013**

* * *

The TARDIS was already well at work repairing the mental defenses in Rose's head by the time they'd gotten far enough from the sun that the venting chamber was safe enough to enter. She felt her barriers returning, reinforcing the feeling of safety she'd never realized she'd had until it was ripped away. The ship seemed disgruntled as she worked and Rose had the strangest feeling the TARDIS would be chastising her for getting into this mess if she could.

The Doctor was deeply shaken by today's events. She thought it would've been obvious even to someone who didn't know him well. He was all smiles and laughter as he hugged Martha and patted the crew on their shoulders but his eyes were guarded and every time Rose left his field of vision she'd notice him immediately shift so he could see her again. She left the room without him once and when she came back she saw him visibly relax and his pupils return to normal size. That was when she fully understood the depth of his fear and she made an effort to keep close to him after that.

Only three of the crew had survived—Scannell, Riley, and Erina—and they followed the time travellers back to their ship to see what kind of machine managed to land in the middle of a venting chamber and would survive that kind of heat. When the Doctor gestured flourishingly to the TARDIS, the three of them gaped.

The Doctor chuckled and circled the TARDIS, looking for any damage.

Rose rested her forehead on the door. _Thank you._

Scannell was the first to approach the TARDIS and looked the blue police box up and down in disbelief. "This is never your ship."

"Compact, eh? And another good word: robust!" he patted the side of the ship and sniffed proudly. "Barely a scorch mark on her."

"How is that possible?" Erina demanded. "Got so hot in here the thermometer broke. It should've burnt to a crisp."

"Like I said. Robust. Well, we'll be off now."

Rose took that as her cue and pulled the key from under her shirt and slid it into the lock. She felt the Doctor's fingers brush her arm and she glanced up at him.

"We can't just leave you drifting with no fuel." Martha objected.

Riley smiled at her concern. "We've sent out an official mayday. The authorities will pick us up soon enough."

"Though how we explain what happened…" Scannell shook his head.

The Doctor pushed the door open and sighed. He had no love for that sun, but he'd felt the sun's pain and understood why it had lashed out. "Just tell them—that sun needs care and protection, just like any other living thing."

Scannell nodded. Without another word, the Doctor stepped into the TARDIS, only too eager to leave this place behind. When the door shut behind him, Rose leaned away from the TARDIS. She'd been considering how to warn them and though the Doctor had done a good job of it just now she felt the need to take it one step further. There was a chance that people would try to study the sun—learn how it was alive, maybe experiment a bit. They had to know what would happen.

"When it was in my head, I was able to speak to it. You've got to make sure nothing like this ever happens again. It said it won't be merciful next time. Stay away. Don't mess with it. You've got to warn people."

"We will," Riley promised.

"Good." She smiled at them and started to head inside but Erina stopped her.

"Hey, Rose!"

Rose turned and Erina smiled at her. "Thank you for earlier. You saved my life."

Rose smiled and nodded, then stepped inside the TARDIS.

The Doctor stood rigidly at the console, facing away from the doors. She remained where she was for a moment and tried to discern the movement of his shoulders that meant he was breathing. She grew concerned when she realized he was still as a statue and quickly walked up the ramp towards him. Wordlessly, she slid her arms around his middle and pulled him against her tightly. For a moment he remained stiff in her embrace but then his hands came up and covered hers.

Martha joined them a minute later, prancing up the ramp. "So! Didn't really need either of you in—" She must've noticed they way they were standing because she cut off mid sentence. She walked towards them slowly, but with purpose, her heels clacking against the grating. "You alright?"

The Doctor sniffed, clearing his throat, and pulled away from Rose. He flipped and sent them away from Torajji and into the time vortex. "So, where to next? I say we skip our previously planned trip and go somewhere cold. How about ice skating and sledding? I know the perfect—"

"I've got a better idea." Martha interrupted. She grabbed Rose's hand then the Doctor's and pulled them out of the console room. They let her pull them down the hallways, glancing at each other unsurely. They passed their rooms, the kitchen, the library, the karaoke bar, and Martha eventually stopped at a door with a blue handle. She let go of Roses hand and opened the door, peeking inside experimentally. She'd requested the door with the blue knob always lead to the pool weeks ago. Time to see if the TARDIS had made it permanent.

"Right, in we go." She withdrew her head, kicking the door open with her foot, and shoved the pair of them into the poolroom.

Today the pool was a roundish shape, about ten yards across and six feet deep at most. The walls were shades of white mixed with blues—ice, they realized—and on the ceiling they could see indistinct swirling colors, like the aurora borealis. There was a tiny waterfall trickling down from a ledge on one of the walls. It was like a tiny lake inside a cave of ice. The air smelled fresh, like water with a hint of cool mint, and the water echoed off the walls like pebbles dropping into a shallow pool.

Martha strode purposefully past them, hopping from foot to foot to get her shoes and socks off, pulled the cellphone from her pocket, the key from around her neck, and set them on a table. Then she walked right up to the edge of the pool and cannonballed in, clothes and all.

The Doctor and Rose looked at each other, shrugged, and removed their shoes. Rose set her phone, key, and watch off to the side; the Doctor shucked his jacket, dress shirt, tie, and pulled various items out of his trouser pockets. Then they jumped in together.

The water was blissful, not too cold, but not too hot, either. It was perfect.

Martha floated lazily on her back kicking her legs idly to keep herself turning in a wide circle, careful to avoid the waterfall. Her clothes felt heavy but they weren't enough to pull her under. The water filled her ears, muffling the sounds around her, except for the splashes made by the other occupants of the pool. It was relaxing and, she decided, the best idea she'd had all week. Until something tickled her sides and she gasped, yelping at the same time, and arched her back to get away from it.

She flipped oddly in the water and pushed herself to the surface, pushing her hair out of her face. The Doctor was a few feet away, positively roaring, and Rose laughed from somewhere behind her.

She narrowed her eyes at him, braced her feet against the bottom, and sprang forward. She hit him square in the chest. His feet slipped on the smooth floor and he went careening backwards into deeper water. Rose hooted gleefully and she thought she heard the TARDIS hum in amusement as well. The Doctor's head slowly broke the surface. His usually wild locks were now limp and they clung to his skin. Martha sniggered and he frowned sullenly at her.

Martha heard and felt Rose swim up beside her and she held her hand up. Rose smacked her palm. The Doctor shook his head and straightened up. Martha's eyebrows shot towards her hairline. Apparently he'd discarded most of his layers before jumping in and all he was wearing over his chest was a thin white undershirt that hid absolutely nothing. It clung to his skin, accentuating the muscles in his chest nicely. It was rare that she saw him in anything less than an undershirt or one of his dress shirts and she took a moment to appreciate a view that usually only Rose would be privy to.

Then the white undershirt was filling her vision as the Doctor jumped at his two companions, hooking his arms around them, and dropped down into the water.

Later that night the Doctor and Rose were curled up together on her bed. Though, strictly speaking, it wasn't _her_ bed anymore, the TARDIS had made certain of that. They'd gone for so long sharing a bed that she'd switched out the old one months ago for one a good foot wider so they would have enough room. The TARDIS knew full well that giving them a smaller bed (which would have been the logical way to get their relationship going further to someone unaware of Gallifreyan customs) would only serve to make the Doctor reluctant to spend as much time there. At least this way he could distance himself if he needed to without actually leaving.

Rose had pulled on her fluffy pajama but had foregone her usual t-shirt in favor of a spaghetti strap shirt. Goosebumps covered her skin, partially from the cool temperature in the room, partially from his touch. He was playing with one of her shirt straps absentmindedly, his fingers brushing her skin while she stared out the window. Tonight the TARDIS was showing her a scene of London with snow falling, as if they were slowly flying over the city. Normally she preferred to look out and see stars or the view from her room on the Powell Estate but as usual the TARDIS had sensed what would be best for her.

Sometimes she wasn't sure if she loved the ship or the pilot more.

_Equally in different ways,_ she thought.

"I heard you," the Doctor said quietly, breaking the silence.

"You what?" she asked. Had he heard her thoughts? Shouldn't he have to touch her temples?

"Earlier, I heard what you said. Just before."

She knew what he meant or at least she hoped she did. Now was not the time for a miscommunication and, well, she wanted to hear him say it. "What did I say?"

"It's kind of blurred and the memory hurts, but you…" he inhaled deeply and after the exhale he said, "I remember."

"Remember what?" She felt him crane his neck to see her face. She tilted her head up. "What did I say?"

He hesitated for a moment and then said slowly, "You told me you loved me." He swallowed, staring down at her. She saw the unspoken question in his eyes and with it, hope, and a hint of fear.

Rose smiled mistily. "Did I?"

"You did. …Didn't you?" he frowned and for a moment seemed to consider the possibility that he'd hallucinated in those last few moments before he was swallowed by the fire.

She laughed lightly and kissed his chin to ease his doubt. "Yes, I did. But you already knew that."

He smiled at her, unbridled joy replacing the fear in his eyes. Of course he'd known. She'd been telling him without words for years. He ducked his head, shifting so she slid into the space between his arm and chest and pressed his lips to hers. They kissed languidly, lips sliding smoothly across each other. There was no rush, no reason for franticness or heat. Actually, heat was the last thing either of them wanted at the moment, the memories of burning so fresh in their minds.

He nipped at her lip playfully before pulling back and nuzzling her cheek with his nose. She peeked her eyes open and saw that his were already open and staring.

"I love you," she whispered, breath ghosting across his cheek.

The Doctor chuckled quietly. "Quite right, too," he whispered back and kissed her again. He didn't say the words but that was fine for now. She knew.

He pulled the sheet over her shoulders and she snuggled close with her face pressed into his chest. She loved being like this. She could both feel and hear his hearts thumping their strange dual beat, half of her favorite lullaby. His fingers slid through her hair, lightly brushing across her scalp, and soothed her to sleep. She last thing she felt before she slipped under were his cool lips against her forehead.

Really, she should've been expecting it. Years with the Doctor may have hardened her but she was no more immune to her subconscious than he was. Just a few hours after she fell asleep she awoke violently, tangled in the covers and thrashing blindly, a scream of utter terror ripping its way from her throat, and a nightmare of burning alive and being unable to move fresh in her mind. She hit the floor, still trapped in the thick duvet, and banged her head on her dresser as she struggled to get free.

The door banged open and the light from the hallway spilled in. The Doctor's face filled her vision and his hands grabbed hold of either side of her face and he tried to calm her. She continued to struggle. Looking down, he realized what was wrong and he slipped one arm around her, lifting her from the ground, and used the other to pull the blankets away from her. Tucking his arm under her legs, he scooped her up and sat down on the bed with her cradled to him. He held her firmly while rocking lightly just as he always did.

Her fists gripped his shirt and she sobbed against his chest. "I've got you," he soothed. "It was just a nightmare."

A shadow slid across the floor, blocking the light from outside.

Martha stood in the doorway in her pajamas with her hair wrapped up. She hadn't even bothered with a dressing gown. "What happened?"

"Nightmare," he answered.

Her shoulders slumped in relief. "I thought she was dying."

"So did I for a second." His lips twisted into something that wasn't quite a frown but wasn't pleased in the least. "I can handle this. Go back to bed."

Martha looked at Rose's shuddering form and opened her mouth in protest. The Doctor gave her a grateful smile, touched by her concern, before resting his cheek on Rose's head. She realized at the same time that this had probably happened before and that he did in fact know how to handle this, probably better than she could. So she closed her mouth, nodded once, and left without another word.

He kissed Rose on the top of her head. Her sobs had begun to slow as she calmed and realized where she was, who was holding her, and who had just departed. "I'm here," he promised. "Do you want to talk about it?"

She swallowed, exhaling shakily. "It was so…h-hot and…dark. I couldn' s-see and I couldn' m-move and I kept screamin' but n-n one could hear me 'cos I couldn' open my mouth."

His mouth twisted in anger and silently cursed himself for not foreseeing this. Of course she would have nightmares. She hadn't been fully possessed like he had but she had in no way been spared. He should've known this would've happened. He should've stayed. He'd only left to do a quick check on the TARDIS systems to ensure nothing had been damaged.

The TARDIS hummed in his mind accompanied by a wave of image and emotion: red anger mixed with brown understanding and pastel blue serenity. Scolding him for not realizing, understanding why, and wanting to calm them both. He realized his hearts were beating abnormally fast and he took a few deep breaths to steady himself and felt her mirror him.

They stayed as they were for several long minutes. The door slid shut, cutting off most of the light, and they were enveloped in soothing darkness while the TARDIS hummed around them.

"Come on, lay back down." He lowered her to the bed, slipping his arms out from beneath her, and stood. Her hand shot out and grabbed his arm.

"Stay," she whispered.

"Of course, love."

She lifted her eyes to his face and smiled. He realized what he'd said, panicked for about two seconds, and then decided he didn't care. He plucked the sheet from the ground, leaving the duvet where it was, and draped it over her. He kicked his shoes off and walked around to the other side of the bed, stretching out behind her. When she was safely cocooned in his arms he felt her start to relax again. He hummed softly, tracing a word over and over on her stomach in Gallifreyan. It took her longer than normal but she finally drifted off.

Only to start whimpering in her sleep not long after. He blew a cool breath of air across her face before kissing her temple, using the light but intimate contact to send a mental wave of calm into her subconscious. _I'm here, you're safe,_ he whispered in her mind before withdrawing. Anything more and she might react negatively at the mental intrusion. Rose calmed.

He had to repeat the process several times over the next several hours, but somehow she managed to get enough rest. When he asked, she said she hadn't had any more nightmares, but something in her eyes told him she wasn't entirely telling the truth. But she hadn't woken up at any point so he had helped. That was good enough for now.

"Where do you want to go today?" he asked.

"Somewhere cold," she replied, "and cloudy."

Easy enough. At breakfast he told them to dress for snowy weather. Martha dressed in a heavy red coat, snow boots, gloves, earmuffs, and a pair of water-resistant pants. Rose showed up in wearing water-resistant trousers and a jacket, snow boots, thin gloves, and a scarf. Rose arched her eyebrows at him and neither of them commented on her attire.

He wouldn't tell them if it was Earth or not, but they did see a few aliens mixed in with humans, so if it was Earth then it was far beyond their time. They spent time on the slopes and went sledding, inner tubing, and ice-skating. The Doctor wanted to try skiing but his two companions exchanged a look and immediately pulled him away from the skis. They moved away from the sports area and made a snowman, a snow TARDIS, and then a Dalek. The last one they stared at solemnly for about thirty seconds then Rose called a group of children over and asked them if they'd like to destroy it. There was something strangely satisfying about watching a group of squealing seven-year-olds demolish a Dalek.

The next day they went to an autumn festival. The day after that they went to a winter solstice celebration and after that they showed Martha the beautiful Woman Wept.

At first, Martha didn't really think anything of it. The Doctor had said they should go to a cold place next and it was a relief after nearly being burned alive, but by the fourth day she was getting a little sick of having to bundle up to have any fun. That was when she started paying attention to their behavior.

Rose had had nightmares every night since their incident with the sun, though her screams weren't as horrible and didn't last as long as they had that first night. The Doctor's doing no doubt. Sometimes she went to check on them but the door was always closed and when she didn't hear anything further from the room, she'd creep back to hers and try to fall back to sleep.

Apart from cuddling with each other, neither the Doctor nor Rose was doing anything to keep themselves warm. When they went out in the winter, Rose barely wore enough to keep her warm, usually just a jacket and gloves, maybe a scarf. Sometimes in autumn or early spring she barely wore a windbreaker.

Inside the TARDIS she was always wearing shorts and a short-sleeved or sleeveless shirt. She didn't wear socks, either. The Doctor shucked his coat and jacket the moment they boarded the TARDIS. More than once he removed his dress shirt as well. Usually when the three of them sat on the couch she'd have to fight for every inch of the afghan but now they let her have the whole thing without protest. Neither of them cooked hot meals and when Martha did they both waited for their plates to cool for several minutes before beginning to eat. Same with their tea.

Unless she was mistaken, the inside of the TARDIS was chillier as well, accompanied by a cool breeze in the hallways. The pool stayed an icy cavern and the hot tub and sauna rooms disappeared entirely. The freezer had an unusual amount of popsicles near the front. None of the fireplaces were lit. That bothered Martha after another day of nothing but snow and she retreated to the corner of the library with a grand fireplace and magnificently ornate hearth. She convinced the TARDIS to light it and within a few minutes she was dozing in the kind of warmth that only could be felt in front of a real fire.

Rose came to find her and stopped dead when she saw the roaring fire. Martha waited for her to finish what she was saying and turned around when she didn't. Rose's eyes were wide and fixed on the fire. She bolted, leaving Martha startled and concerned. She thought back over the days since their scare on the spaceship and realized this was something else out of the ordinary she'd failed to identify before now. On their excursions the pair of them avoided the fireplaces and bonfires alike. They'd even flinched at candles.

"So where are we going today?" she asked the next morning, trying to be nonchalant about her suspicious. They were having pancakes. Martha was already chowing down but Rose and the Doctor had yet to do anything except cut theirs up.

"The Solstice Festival on Ether," he replied, prodding at his food with the tip of his finger to test the temperature.

"And I'm guessing it's not for the summer solstice."

"Nope."

She sighed and stabbed a piece of pancake with her fork, shoving it into her mouth. The Doctor poked his food again and Martha saw the two of them exchange a swift glance. Then Rose picked up her fork and started to eat. The Doctor joined in a minute later. Martha raised her eyebrows but chose not to comment.

"Can't we go somewhere warm?" she asked.

The Doctor stopped with the fork halfway to his mouth. "But Etheran Winter Solstice Festival is one of the best! And it occurs for ninety-nine percent of their civilized history so even if I get the years wrong we won't miss it! There's tobogganing, races, games, music, plays, good food—if you want something warm, Martha, they make delicious hot cider I'm sure you'll enjoy."

"Do they have a great Summer Solstice Festival?"

"Well, yes…"

"Why can't we go there instead?" She raised her eyebrows pointedly and waited. Her suspicions were confirmed when he floundered for an excuse.

"What's wrong with a winter festival?" Rose demanded.

"Nothing," she said, "Except I'm getting sick of freezing my arse off every day. I haven't seen proper sunlight since—since, well." she didn't outright say it and she could tell they were both grateful. This wasn't a battle she couldn't win over breakfast, especially when she was outnumbered two to one. So she heaved a sigh, cleaned her plate, and asked what the dress was for the festival.

She headed up to the wardrobe on her own. Rose joined her five minutes later. Normally they would laugh and chat as they selected their attire, comparing, giving suggestions, and making the same old jokes about the Doctor and his suit. There was none of that. The silence between them was heavy and to Martha it screamed of everything that had been wrong lately

Rose emerged from the changing area wearing a long sleeved powder blue gown with white fur trim. She turned around in front of the mirror to see herself and this was usually the point where Martha chimed in with a 'yay' or 'nay.'

Instead she asked, "Are you alright?"

Rose looked at her in the mirror. "I'm fine."

"You're really not, though." She placed a deep blue dress back on the rack and kept looking. "I'm not blind."

The muscle in her jaw twitched but she would no longer meet her gaze. "I told you I'm fine."

"You've not been fine for nearly two weeks," she argued. "I'm a doctor. I can tell these things."

"Good for you."

Martha sighed. "Please don't start acting like him. I only want to help."

Rose rounded on her. "You wanna help? Then butt out." With that, she stormed out of the wardrobe.

Martha didn't go with them to the festival. The hum of the TARDIS changed when they returned many hours later but she didn't see them until the following morning. That was when she realized Rose hadn't woken up screaming. That was good, right?

Perhaps not.

Another week of cold, cloudy days, and frequent nighttime adventures went by. The Doctor seemed to be improving. He left his Oxfords on and sometimes his jacket. He still wouldn't eat hot meals, though. The same could not be said for Rose. She no longer screamed in the night but the more Martha saw her, the more she became certain that it was because she wasn't sleeping well enough to even dream. If she was even sleeping at all. With that realization came another: this had to stop.

She still wasn't entirely sure what had happened, but from what she'd seen and the brief explanation she'd been provided, she knew the sun had been highly telepathic and very strong. It had broken through their mental barriers and invaded their minds, took over their bodies, and played with them like dolls.

The sun had been living in them, burning their insides and razing through their minds. Of course they would feel violated. Their minds were associating heat with the fear and pain they'd felt as they were taken over. The cold was comfort. The only warmth they allowed themselves was each other (safe) and some protection against the elements (necessary). They didn't want to go somewhere where they couldn't control the amount of heat they were exposed to.

She felt horrible for not realizing it straight off. She was a doctor, for God's sake—a good and proper doctor now, and she was recognized as such on seven planets and five times in Earth history. She'd seen more than her peers ever would, she'd helped entire civilizations recover from the brink of disaster. She didn't need a test to tell her she was a doctor, life and experience had done that. The eyes and lips of those she'd saved had done that.

Well, now she had two more patients. This seemed more like a job for a psychiatrist, but she didn't know any psychiatrists that would believe her, she would have to do her best on her own. Because even though the Doctor was getting better on his own she wasn't entirely sure he would be very helpful.

So the first thing she did was to try and recruit the TARDIS. She was afraid she wouldn't be able to make contact on her own as she usually had Rose around to make her case, but she needn't have worried. The ship was obviously concerned for them and after just a few seconds of talking aloud and hoping for a response, she felt the ship touch the back of her mind. It startled her at first. The TARDIS had never made such blatant contact with her before. It was usually just a brush of emotion, maybe a faint image. What she felt this time was distress that made her insides curl and love so powerful she felt warm.

She didn't know where the knowledge came from but she knew it was how the TARDIS felt for Rose and the Doctor. The concern was easy to identify, it was what she'd always imagined it would feel like when she was a mother worrying about her children. It was the love she couldn't quite describe. Somewhere between a mother's and a lover's. Were it coming from anywhere else she wouldn't believe it, but it somehow made perfect sense. That was when Martha realized exactly how _alive_ the TARDIS really was. She loved them and their suffering was painful to her—and she was bonded to them both in such a way that the pain was felt emotionally and physically. Well, as physical as anything could be for the ship.

For a few minutes, alone in her room, Martha felt and watched what the ship was saying. Some of it she understood, some of it she didn't. She didn't think she'd ever be as attuned to the ship as the Doctor or Rose, not unless the ship started talking to her like this daily, which she doubted. This was a special circumstance. The TARDIS had been trying her best to comfort them but there was only so much she could do on her own. So, Martha came up with a plan and the TARDIS responded by flicking the lights for yes or no, and sending images when she wanted to add her own suggestions. It was like charades, in a way.

When they were done planning, before withdrawing from their connection, the TARDIS nuzzled her mind. She felt the love the ship had for her, like a friend or perhaps a close aunt, and her gratitude.

The TARDIS started things off by slowly warming her interior back to normal temperature over a period of several days.

On the second day she made eggs for breakfast. Rose tried to politely refuse and went in search of cereal, except the cabinets were completely and utterly void of anything that didn't have to be served hot. Neither she nor the Doctor was impressed.

"I guess you'll just have to eat the eggs," she said, setting their plates on the table. "Come on, while they're still nice and warm."

They sat down at the table with her and, as expected, the Doctor started prodding lightly at his food. Martha pointed at him severely with her fork. "There is nothing wrong with these eggs. They're cool enough to not burn your mouth. Go on."

The Doctor frowned at her. The TARDIS prodded the back of her mind, urging her to be gentle.

"How about this: take a few bites while they're warm and then you can wait until it's cooler if you want."

Rose and the Doctor looked at each other for a few seconds and then Rose picked up her fork, skewered a bit of egg, and slowly brought it up to her mouth. She hesitated with the fork a precarious few centimeters away and then gingerly slipped it into her mouth. She made a face that would've been funny in any other situation—half surprised, half pained, half terrified—chewed, and then swallowed. She set the fork down and did not touch her food for several minutes. The Doctor managed three bites before he, too, put his fork down.

They did it again at dinner. This time Rose managed two bites of spaghetti before dropping her fork and waiting for it to cool.

For the next few days, the TARDIS refused to provide any cold food except for milk to anyone but Martha. Of course this meant that she had to make most of their meals but she was an excellent cook and the TARDIS had a fair few cookbooks in her library. It was right around then that the Doctor started to realize she was up to something. He knew a partnership when he saw one.

One night when Rose was actually sleeping, he decided he wanted a snack and carefully slipped out of her grip and made his way to the kitchen. He expected his ship to play nice, it was only a snack after all, but once again he found the cupboards bare of snack foods and he didn't feel like cooking anything. A banana, he decided. That shouldn't be too much trouble.

But the TARDIS outright refused. Slamming the doors and drawers and flickering the lights in response to his pleading. Okay, not a banana. Any fruit would do. He opened a cabinet and she slammed it shut again. He offered maintenance work he'd been putting off and not to use the mallet for a week. A month. He'd take her to Cardiff for a nice meal on the rift. Finally, it seemed she had decided to accept his offer, and one of the cabinet doors opened slowly.

He walked over to it eagerly and looked inside. A single pear sat waiting.

"Oh, come on, that's not fair!" he protested.

The lights flickered. Take it or leave it.

He went back to Rose's room empty-handed.

When he got there he found her shuddering, a soft wail ripping itself from her throat. He immediately climbed into bed next to her and cupped her face in his hands. The difference in their body temperatures helped to soothe her in the burning terrors of her subconscious. This was the first time she'd stayed asleep long enough to dream in days and he was going to do his best to help her get the rest her body needed. She wasn't a Time Lord. She couldn't go without sleep like he could.

And thank Rassilon that he didn't have to sleep often. Normally when he did sleep her presence was enough to keep the monsters in his mind at bay. But as distressed as she was in her sleeping state he wasn't entirely sure that trying to sleep around her wouldn't do more harm than good.

Touching his fingers to her temples, he whispered into her mind. _My Rose, I'm here. You're safe. Nothing can harm you._

He hadn't told her he did this for her ever every time she managed to sleep. He wasn't sure what she'd think of him entering her mind even as faintly as he did. But he couldn't regret his actions, not when they were helping her.

The next evening he decided he was going to confront Martha. Rose was starting to smell a bit funny in a way that was bothering him and he was hesitant to leave her alone for too long. So he waited until she was in the shower then he sought Martha out.

He found her in the fire room. Interesting room that one—never the same twice, but it always had a fire in it. Sometimes a fireplace, sometimes a fire pit—one time it was empty and white except for a ring of fire around the edge of the room. It looked like he'd walked into one of the TARDIS gardens. There were some trees—Earth in origin, most likely Douglas Firs but he'd have to have a taste to be sure—grass on the ground, and a single log in front of a roaring bonfire. He could feel the heat from the doorway and he thought of orange spacesuits, pain, and terrified rage.

He gritted his teeth and stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. Martha looked up and smiled.

"What do you think you're doing?" he demanded.

Her smile melted away. "Sorry, should I have invited you guys? Didn't think you'd want to join me, to be honest. I was gonna make s'mores. Want one?"

"No, thank you."

"Have a seat," she offered and then arched her eyebrows.

Martha didn't miss the way his eyes flicked to the fire and scooted over, patting the free space beside her. "If you want to talk you'll have to come over here. I'm not craning my neck like that."

She heard him sigh and listened to the grass crunching underneath his feet as he made his way over to the log. He sat down next to her and spoke without preamble. "What are you two playing at? You and the TARDIS. Don't think we haven't noticed."

"I would be surprised if you hadn't." Martha replied smoothly. He looked at her expectantly. "You want to know why we're working together? Ever since we dealt with that sun you two have scared of heat. Don't think we haven't noticed."

"You don't understand."

"No, you're right, I don't. I don't know what it's like to be violated like that—and I never want to—but I do know that this isn't healthy for either of you. Emotionally and physically."

She reached for his hand and grasped it firmly in hers. "We're worried about you, me and the TARDIS. That's why. I didn't realize what was going on at first, but she did, and when she realized I wanted to help she…she spoke to me. She's never done that before. It wasn't just her messin' with the lights, I could actually feel her in my mind, and she was sending me pictures. And I felt…I felt how she feels. She _loves_ you both. I don't even know if you realize how much. I don't even know how to properly describe it, but I felt it, and we understood each other."

He said nothing.

"You've been shying away from anything really hot. It's because of how it felt, isn't it? It was hot?"

"That's an understatement. It was like my blood had been turned to magma. It wasn't as bad for Rose, but…"

Martha nearly shuddered. "It doesn't matter if she didn't have it as bad. She's not doing good, Doctor, surely you can see it?"

"She…no, but she—she is. She's eating more warm food every meal, she's gone outside in broad daylight, and she's even wearing t-shirts around the TARDIS…" he trailed off uncertainly.

"When was the last time she had a good night's sleep?"

"She got five hours last night," he said quietly after a moment. "That's the most she's had in days."

"I knew it. Doctor, what's wrong with you? That should've been your first and last clue. You can't keep this up. Well, maybe you could, but she can't. It's not healthy, mentally or physically. She could get sick. This has got to stop. Tomorrow we're going to somewhere where it's almost summer and you're both going to suck up copious amounts of Vitamin D."

"But—"

"I'm not asking to go to the Sahara or anything, just somewhere warm. Do you think you can manage that?"

He stared at her for a long minute and then nodded slowly.

She smiled. "Once the TARDIS feels that you're doing better, you can have your bananas back. In fact, I'll make you a banana milkshake."

But, alas, their warm day was not to be. Rose had woken up sick.

The Doctor mentioned that she'd smelt odd recently and said that he should have realized what it meant. She could tell he was already kicking himself over it, but Martha still spent a good few minutes scolding both of them for their disregards to Rose's health before diagnosing her with a cold. Unfortunately, the Doctor didn't have a cure for the common cold. Not one that would work on a human from the 21st century.

So she dragged him to the kitchen to make the tea while she cooked chicken and noodles. He recommended a few alien spices they had that were good for helping the human immune system. While the soup was cooking, he took her to the infirmary and gave her a quick injection that should keep her from catching what Rose had. He also located some medicine that would help Rose's symptoms and brought it to her with breakfast.

The three of them spent the day in the library, watching Disney movies and listening to the Doctor read aloud. They allowed Martha to tuck them under a thick quilt and Rose seemed to enjoy the warmth more than she had for nearly four weeks. She ended up sleeping most of the day, tucked under the Doctor's arm and curled against his chest.

The next day Rose wasn't any better, if anything she was worse. She was starting to run a fever and her coughs were getting thicker. But apparently the TARDIS needed some maintenance so the Doctor had to spend hours in the console room, though the idea seemed to pain him. Martha sat with Rose in the library during that time. Just like the previous day, Rose spent a lot of time napping so Martha kept herself entertained by reading and watching alien telly. When Rose started to hack up mucus Martha moved a trashcan in front of the couch for her and they kept a water bottle on the table.

Sometime after lunch while Rose was sound asleep at the other end of the couch, she felt the telltale jolt of the TARDIS landing. Rose didn't even stir. Martha was surprised. The Doctor had never managed to land them that smoothly. The TARDIS must have taken extra care for Rose's sake.

The Doctor turned up a few minutes later and explained he needed to go out for parts. He shouldn't be longer than a few hours, but in the event he was needed, he had Rose's phone in his pocket.

"Don't leave the ship unless you have to. The environment isn't hostile, but there's a bit too much carbon dioxide in the air for your lungs to handle. There are oxygen masks around here somewhere, but I don't think you'll have to worry. The natives are friendly and used to contact with many species."

He asked her to tell Rose where he'd gone if she woke up before he got back, but he didn't expect to be gone that long. He knelt by her side and kissed her cheek, brushing her hair out of her face, smiled at Martha, and then left.

Rose woke up about two hours after he left and she was upset that he hadn't said goodbye. It always made her nervous when he went somewhere she couldn't without depending on suit or oxygen mask to survive. Martha brought her some more soup. Rose made a face at it and only ended up taking a few bite because her stomach was feeling funny.

A few minutes later she said she needed to use the bathroom so Martha helped her to her feet. Rose swayed back and forth like she was dizzy for a moment and then her eyes widened in dread. She jerked out of Martha's grip and dropped to her knees in front of the trash can just seconds before she threw up. When she was done, she moaned softly and sagged against the couch.

Martha sat next to her, rubbing her back soothingly. Rose was awfully pale and she felt hotter than earlier. She threw up again and then Martha decided it was time to move her to the infirmary. She helped Rose to her feet and let her use her for support as they walked out of the library. The TARDIS had already rearranged the rooms so the infirmary, Rose's room, the library, and the kitchen were all in the same hallway.

The usual examination table had been swapped for a 21st century hospital bed, and after a stop in the bathroom, she helped Rose into it and adjusted the back so he was sitting up. She then quickly located a plastic bin she could hook onto the side of the bed. Martha found a warm blanket and a fluffy pillow in a cupboard and got Rose all tucked in. Then she found a thermometer and went to get her some more water while they waited. It ended up taking three tries to get an accurate reading since Rose kept coughing so much.

"I'm cold," Rose said as Martha took the thermometer.

"Thirty-eight point three degrees," she murmured. "You were thirty-seven seven earlier."

Rose sipped gratefully at the water, swishing it around her mouth, and spat into the bin. "Ugh, tastes horrible." She took another drink, spat it out, then slowly drank the rest. "Are you gonna call the Doctor?"

"If he's not back soon, yes. In the mean time, I may not be _the _Doctor, but I am _a_ doctor. I know what I'm doing."

Rose smiled and started coughing and hacking again.

Martha washed off the thermometer then went looking for a stethoscope and the digital blood pressure monitor the Doctor said he had around here somewhere. She fastened it around Rose's wrist. The results were slightly lower than she'd have liked to see. She listened to Rose's heart and her breathing. Her lungs sounded full which explained why Rose was coughing up so much.

"Are you having any difficult breathing?" she asked as she listened.

"A bit."

"Hmm." She muttered. She was starting to get a good idea what was going on. She hoped she was wrong.

She went to get dinner for herself and told Rose to either have the TARDIS get her attention if she needed anything. She didn't feel like making anything special so she just heated up some chicken nuggets, squirted some honey on the plate to dip them in, and set the plate on a tray along with a glass of milk, some carrots, two popsicles, and an empty two-liter bottle that she filled with water. Rose had nearly fallen asleep by the time she returned with a tray. She lifted her head blearily and was roused fully from her doze by a round of coughing.

"I brought you some popsicles." Martha said when Rose was relaxed again. "You probably shouldn't be eating solids for the time being but you need to stay hydrated. Grape or cherry?"

"Grape."

She unwrapped a grape Popsicle and handed it to Rose, then pulled up a chair and ate beside her.

"Thank you," Rose said. "You didn't have to do this."

"Yes I did," she retorted immediately. "Wouldn't be much of a doctor or a friend otherwise."

Rose laughed weakly and sucked on the Popsicle for another minute then took a sip of water. Martha kept a careful eye on her but tried to not make her concern overly obvious. Rose didn't feel like eating the other Popsicle, which Martha promised her was fine.

"Go back to sleep," she instructed. "I'll give him a call and wait with you until he gets back."

She finished her dinner then returned to the kitchen and put the Popsicle away and washed her dishes. She retrieved her phone from her room and called the Doctor on the way back to the infirmary. Except he didn't answer. She called back three times but each time she got voicemail. She left him a message the last time, calmly informing him that Rose was getting worse and he needed to get his Time Lord behind back to the ship.

Maybe he just wasn't in a position to answer. She hoped that was all it was.

She stood silently over the bed and watched Rose sleep while she ran over a list of Rose's symptoms again. They all pointed to pneumonia. She really hoped it wasn't but it would probably do to have the Doctor find her some sort of antibiotic tomorrow. Whatever was wrong with her, they obviously didn't have a cure onboard or else she was sure the TARDIS would have made it visible by now. She could control where things appeared, but to do so she had to first have it onboard, she couldn't just pull things out of time. Martha wished she could find something for Rose herself, but all the labels were in Gallifreyan and the TARDIS refused to translate the Doctor's native language. Even for Rose. She'd asked.

Rose's sleep was punctuated by coughs every so often but nothing severe enough to wake her up.

Curled up in the plush chair near the wall with her phone clenched in her hands, Martha kept vigil for hours. She grew increasingly worried as more time passed. She called the Doctor four times but he never picked up. She found a thermometer strip and placed it across Rose's forehead. She about had a heart attack when she saw the results until she realized it was Fahrenheit, not Celsius. Must've been an American invention.

Martha did the math in her head and sighed. Thirty-eight point nine. She was getting worse. And she was so pale.

Rose wrinkled her nose and her head tossed to the side. Suddenly the scene before her seemed oddly familiar. She had to think about it for a minute, but then she recognized an image from days ago when she and the TARDIS were talking. At the time she'd thought it was merely a warning of what could happen, now she realized it was a warning of what was going to happen.

Rose woke up around midnight and had a fierce coughing fit about half a minute later. Martha held her hair back as she hacked up more mucus into the bin and then she hugged her as she cried and got her some water to wash her mouth out. Rose asked where the Doctor was. Martha lied and said he was on his way back and held Rose's hand as she fell back to sleep.

Damn them both, they should have been more careful, especially the Doctor. How could he have forgotten that temperature affected human immune systems? It was only too easy for Rose to pick up the bacteria.

A round of loud, harsh coughing woke her sometime later. Martha sat up in the chair and looked around in alarm. It took her a second to remember where she was and why she was there but then she sighed and rubbed her eyes. She yawned and checked her watch—fourteen past ten in the morning, London time. Rose was sitting up in bed, holding her chest and wiping her eyes.

"Where's the Doctor?" she demanded as soon as she caught her breath.

She opened her mouth to lie but she knew the TARDIS would probably correct her and Rose would want to see him. "I…don't know."

"You said he was on his way back."

"I lied. I didn't want you to worry."

"I asked the TARDIS. She says he's not onboard."

Martha bit her lip. "Right, well, it's been over twelve hours."

"Something's wrong." Rose tossed the covers aside. "We have to—to—" she was cut off by another round of coughing and she leaned over the basin, spitting into it.

"You're not going anywhere." Martha ordered, rushing over to the bed, and pushed Rose's legs right back into place. "Get back under the covers right now and hold still."

She placed the thermometer strip on Rose's forehead again and retrieved the stethoscope from the counter. She glanced up at the strip, did the math, and sucked in a sharp breath. Rose was burning a thirty-nine point nine. Not good. Definitely, not good. Her lungs were still full and her breathing was raspy. Even worse. She didn't do a good job of schooling her features.

"What's wrong with me?"

She pursed her lips. "How long has it been since you've felt a hundred percent? No, wait, let me rephrase that because I know you haven't been sleeping. When did you start to feel ill?"

"Um…about four days, I guess."

"And five days ago we were in winter 1932 in Canada. You could've picked it up there or the day before. That's enough time. I think you may have pneumonia."

Rose's eyes widened and what color was left in her face vanished.

"I can't treat you until I know for sure and everything's in Gallifreyan." She sighed, gritting her teeth. There was nothing else for it. "I'm going to have to go after him."

* * *

**You know the drill. Drop me a review on your way out!**


	29. Bartering for Freedom

**I apologize for the wait. I was working on revising the last chapter after I was contacted about how I was portraying the mild cases of PTSD Rose and the Doctor had developed after 42. The user offered me advice and suggestions and I made changes accordingly. You do not have to go back and re-read though you might as well. :)**

**BTW. **

**BULLSHIT ALERT.**

**I know many of you have seen that article about John Hurt playing the Ninth Doctor. **

**_NOTHING, I REPEAT, NOTHING IN THAT ARTICLE COMES FROM THE BBC. IT IS NOT CREDIBLE. THEIR ONLY INFORMATION COMES FROM AN UNNAMED "SOURCE." DO NOT TAKE WHAT IT SAYS SERIOUSLY._**

* * *

Martha had adrenaline buzzing through her while she got ready to go after the Doctor. She wasn't sure what kind of environment she'd face out there but she thought it would be best to be prepared. She put on a pair of jeans and a pair study black boots she found in the wardrobe plus a black short-sleeve shirt and her red leather jacket. She brushed her hair back into a bun and tucked her TARDIS key in her pocket. She felt like she was dressing for battle.

For all she know she could be heading into one. The Doctor was many things, but he was not careless enough to stay out this long when Rose was sick. Something was keeping him away. She hoped it was only law enforcement and not something worse, something that would take a rescue mission. She couldn't do something like that on her own and Rose was in no condition to help. She'd need to recover some first and to do that she needed medicine.

Martha grabbed a bag she'd found weeks before in the wardrobe that must have belonged to another Time Lord (Lady?) at one time because it was bigger on the inside. She went around her room looking for anything valuable she could use to trade for medicine or medical aid if it came to that. She did a quick search of the wardrobe as well and the TARDIS willingly led her to a section of clothes that were made with fine fabrics and adorned in gems. She took one dress and one jacket and lowered them into her bag on their hangers, hooking them on a pouch and shut her bag.

Next she went to the kitchen and got herself a bowl of cereal and another grape Popsicle for Rose. She ate at Rose's bedside and explained the plan.

"If we're near a town or something I'll ask around and then I'll try the police—he may have been arrested or something."

Rose smiled at that.

"If not, we'll have to wait until you're better before we can do anything. But I've got some stuff in my bag I can barter with if it comes to that. I just hope they're civilized enough to have antibiotics."

"And if they're not?"

"There's always herbal remedies, but let's hope for antibiotics, yeah?"

After breakfast, Martha brought out a ventilator. It was a nice sleek box from the 23rd century and could hook onto the side of the bed. "Some patients with pneumonia can find it difficult to breathe," she explained as she set the mask where could grab it quickly if she had to. She didn't think Rose's case was that bad, but it was better to be safe than sorry. "If you need to, just press the green button and it'll turn on."

"Okay," she said.

"Okay." Martha smiled tightly and patted her hand. There was a light thump on the counter and she looked up. It was a book. She went to retrieve it. "Looks like the TARDIS has provided entertainment."

"What's it called?"

"_The Fault in Our Stars_."

Rose shook her head. "Never heard of it."

"Me neither." Martha opened the cover and looked at the publication date. "2012. That explains it. Well, here you are, then. Something to keep you occupied until you fall asleep."

Rose accepted the book and turned it over to read the back cover.

"I'll see you when I get back." Martha said.

"Thank you."

"Any time."

She adjusted Rose's covers once more and left the infirmary.

In the console room, the TARDIS had an oxygen mask and two small oxygen packs and waiting. Each one had a two-hour battery life, which would hopefully be enough. The mask covered her entire face, connected to the filter by a single tube. She clipped one filter to each side of her belt, adjusted her jacket and bag, then headed for the door. She set her watch to go off in an hour and fifty-five minutes. After that if she hadn't reached any form of civilization she'd have to head back to the TARDIS.

She took a deep breath and pulled the door open. Outside the air looked thick, like it was full of fog, except there was perfect visibility. There was no grass on the ground so she figured they were on some sort of asteroid or maybe a moon and she felt warmth filtering through the TARDIS's protective shields.

"Take care of her," she ordered the ship. "And if worst comes to worse, take her to Sarah Jane."

She reached down and switched the pack on and took a deep breath. She felt the cool, filtered air flow through her nose and as she exhaled she stepped out of the TARDIS. She pulled the door shut behind her and circled the TARDIS to get a look of the land. Off to the right, she could see something like a town about two miles away and she sighed in relief. That had to be where he'd gone. She checked the pack's levels once more and then set off at a jog.

Months with the Doctor had given her stamina she didn't know she was capable of. She didn't flat out run to conserve her oxygen but she was able to keep at a brisk jog and her breathing stayed steady.

The sky was a funny shade of blue, hinging towards green. She supposed it had to do with the atmospheric composition. There were no clouds, either, and the barren land suggested there wasn't much, if any, precipitation here. But the fact there was a settlement meant this bit of space rock had a relatively stable orbit around a star. Unless this was just a bad part of the planet, the locals were probably colonists or their descendants, which meant they're home world had been advanced enough for space travel. They probably would have developed some sort of antibiotics and sent them with the brave pioneers.

It took her about ten minutes to reach the town. She estimated there were several thousand people living there. Although the word 'people' might be a bit loose. The citizens all seemed to be of the same species: humanoids with varying shades of olive and dark skin and silvery or black hair. They all eyed Martha with surprise and a hint of suspicion. Some with more than just a bit. She matched their physical features well enough, but the town was so small they probably all knew each other and she was obviously an outsider with that mask on her face.

She wandered into the mercantile district, figuring this would be where the Doctor would have come. The Doctor said if you wanted to know about anything going on around a town like this to try the market first. Isolated as they were, everyone had to come through here once every few days at least for supplies.

"And who might you be?"

Martha turned around. A slim olive-skinned with silver hair was staring straight at her from the doorway of a pub. She pointed to herself hesitantly and the woman nodded.

"I-I'm Martha," she said and walked towards her. "You?"

"Per'rit."

"…Parrot?"

"Per'r_i_t," she corrected with a frown. "It's not the right day for a convoy to come through and no one on this moon needs a breathing system to walk around in the open. So who are you?"

"I'm looking for someone, a friend of mine. I think he might have come to this town yesterday."

"Tall, skinny, pale man in a brown coat?"

"Yes!" She exhaled in relief. "Oh my God, where is he?"

Per'rit looked her up and down slowly, rubbing her lips together. "You're not here for trouble, are you?"

"No, honestly, no, and neither was he."

"Oh, really? He tried to steal several hundred kirtz worth of parts from Kux. Sounds like trouble if you ask me."

"Oh that bloody alien." Martha seethed. "Please tell me he was arrested and not shot or something."

"No, he wasn't shot."

"Well, that's something. Really, he's not a bad man, he must've just forgotten to bring money when he left the ship. Our friend is sick and he tends to not think very rationally when she's hurt."

Per'rit looked worried. "Sick? How sick?"

"To be honest, very. She could die."

"We have two physicians here. If she's in danger of dying, they'd be willing to treat her with little compensation."

"That won't work." Martha tapped the oxygen mask. "She and I are the same species and we can't breathe the air here. So it's probably safe to assume your people couldn't breathe inside our ship."

Per'rit nodded slowly. "Your friend was arrested, you'll find him at the lockup. Turn around and take a left. Turn right on Er'rs street and a left on Sopi. It's the big green building, you can't miss it."

"Thank you, _thank you_." Martha smiled at her gratefully and ran back they way she'd come.

Ignoring the looks she was getting, Martha raced through the town, following the directions Per'rit had given her. She spotted the deep green building from several streets over and laughed in relief when she reached the door. She took a moment to catch her breath then pulled the door open and stepped inside.

It looked like the waiting room in a small office. The walls were pastel blue, several pictures hung from them in wooden frames. A few chairs were placed along one wall, a plump woman sat in one, reading a magazine. A simple reception desk occupied most of the space, managed by a dark-skinned man with a shock of silver hair. He looked up when she entered and his eyebrows shot towards his hairline.

"What in the name of Is'sara are you wearing, child?" he demanded.

"I am not child, thank you." she rested her hands on the desk. "I'm here for a friend of mine; I was told he was arrested yesterday. Tall skinny bloke, pale skin, wild brown hair, brown coat, big gob—apparently he tried to steal something."

"Ah." The man made a face. "Him, yes." He held up a small black box and pressed a series of numbers. An image shot up from the tiny little dome on the top. The man touched the corner of the hologram screen and a series of information in a thing, squiggly language scrolled past.

Hologram screens were always slow in translating. It was quite annoying sometimes.

"Can you tell me his real name? He's only given us his alias."

"His name is the Doctor."

"Oh, that's actually his name? All right, he's been charged with theft and resisting arrest. The sentence is three weeks in prison and then he will have to work to pay back half the cost of what he stole. It will be a few months," he added for her benefit.

"Oh, no, no, no, no. We can't wait a few months. We can't even wait a few weeks for his sentence to be up." She reached up to put her hands over her face but they connected with the front of her mask instead. "You don't understand he has to come back today. Isn't there _anything_ we can do?"

The man lifted his eyebrows and considered her for a moment. "What is your name, species, and planet of origin?"

"Martha Jones, human, Earth—um, I mean, Sol 3."

"Very well, have a seat please. I'll be back." He gestured to the chairs along the wall.

She walked over to the chairs and sank down into one. The woman with the magazine was staring at her. Martha looked up for a moment and wondered if she could see how weary she was. She turned away and put her head in her hands, which was more difficult than it sounded with that mask on her face. She waited silently for several minutes. That woman kept sneaking glances at her, staring openly when Martha checked the levels on her oxygen pack.

A few more silent minutes passed and then the door on the opposite wall opened.

The man returned with another officer. He was tall with black hair and skin darker than hers, wearing the same brown uniform as the other man. He looked severe and she was genuinely worried for her safety for a moment.

But then his eyes found her, took in her appearance, and he smiled friendlily at her. "Martha Jones? My name is Tyrin. You're here about our alien thief."

She stood up. "Yes, I am."

"Might I ask what your relation to him is?"

"We…we're just travellers. Friends."

He sighed. "Well, that's unfortunate."

"Why?" she asked.

"There was a process we could have gone through, but you have to be related to the accused to sign the release papers."

"What about married couples?"

The officer was not amused. "If you're thinking of marrying him just to get him out, nice try, but it's been done before."

"Oh, no, not me, I meant—" She stopped abruptly, an idea forming. She let out a long sigh. "I didn't mean me. He's already married. Her name's Rose. I'm their friend and I travel with them. Rose is back on our ship right now. When he didn't come back yesterday she sent me to find him."

"Well, in that case, if you return to your ship and bring her here, I'm sure we can get this sorted quickly."

"I can't. Rose would've come with me if she could've. She's very sick and I'm a physician so I've been doing my best to take care of her, but we don't have anything on board that can help her that I know of. All the labels are written in the Doctor's native language and I can't read it. We've never been in a position before where he wasn't able to translate for me."

Tyrin considered her for a moment. "What is she ill with?"

"Pneumonia."

He shook his head. "I don't know of any such thing."

"It's an upper-respiratory infection that can make us very sick. She can't make the trip here and the Doctor was repairing our ship—that's why he tried to take the parts—so we can't move any closer. Please, I know you've got no reason to believe me, but you've got to."

"I believe you. You don't look like a liar, Martha." he sighed. "But the law is the law. Unless his wife or some other relative is here to negotiate for his freedom and sign the papers we cannot do anything. Does he have any kin you can contact?"

"No, we're all he has."

"Then, I'm sorry, there's nothing I can do. But if you can pay off his debt he will not have to work to pay it back himself. In which case he will be freed in three weeks time."

"Don't you understand? We don't have three weeks!" she shouted. Tyrin looked surprised. The man behind the desk was watching her intently. She sucked in a sharp breath through her nose and exhaled slowly. "I'm sorry. You _don't_ understand. If left untreated, pneumonia can kill. She could die. If she dies, he—oh, I don't even want to think about it."

"I can't change the law," he told her gently.

"I know, I know… Can I at least see him? Maybe he can tell me if there's something onboard I can use."

"Now that," said Tyrin, "I can do."

Before they'd let her into the holding area, he made her empty her bag. They were already aware of the whole bigger on the inside thing from the Doctor and she had to hold it upside down and shake to prove there was nothing else hidden within. As she was reloading her bag she explained her plan to use the items to barter for money or medicine if she'd had to. Tyrin seemed to approve of her resourcefulness and told her that the jacket alone could probably fetch more than the debt owed. Add the dress and she'd possibly enough to actually buy the parts he took as well.

"But I do not understand. If you don't have any currency, why didn't he think to do this instead of stealing?" he asked. "We are used to bartering here."

"Because he is one of the smartest men you'll ever meet but sometimes he overlooks the most basic social etiquettes. It's like babysitting a wunderkind. I don't know how Rose puts up with him."

Tyrin led her back into the holding area, which turned out to be a single hallway of cells. Instead of bars they had walls of glass, probably impenetrable or else the Doctor would already be free, and only two of them appeared to be occupied. The third cell they came to was occupied by none other than the skinny Time Lord himself, wearing a snug black shirt, trousers, and simple black shoes. He was lying on the floor with his legs propped up on the wall and he appeared to be mouthing something.

"What is he doing?" he asked.

Martha shook her head.

Tyrin slid a panel in the glass open. "What are you doing?"

"Well, since you've neglected to provide me any sort of entertainment, I'm trying to keep myself occupied. And if you must know, I am currently calculating the total amount of each gas in the air. I'm almost done. Couldn't you at least give me a game of Sudoku or Kall Cheiks? You do play Kall Cheiks here, don't you? You're Kall colonists, after all. Oh, wait. Left pocket of my jacket, there's a megaminx in there—it's a dodecahedron with lots of colors—if you could be so kind as to bring it to me."

"You've got a visitor."

"Oh?" The Doctor craned his neck to see. Quick as a flash, he was off the wall and on his feet. "Well, it's about time! I expected you to turn up hours ago."

"You complete _arse_!" she snarled, smacking her palm against the glass. "I swear to God, if you weren't in there I would slap you into your next life!"

Despite the thick glass protecting him, the Doctor took a step away from the furious female. "Martha, calm down."

"Don't you tell me to calm down!" she screeched. "A few hours, you said! We've been worried sick!"

"I'm sorry."

"You better be. I just can't believe you'd go and get yourself arrested knowing full well your wife is sick. …She's gotten worse, Doctor," she added quietly.

"Worse," he repeated flatly. Thankfully, he didn't question the 'wife' bit.

"She's running a fever of thirty-nine point nine last I checked. She's been throwing up, pale as a ghost, her blood pressure's a bit low, her lungs sound full, she's coughing up mucus, and she's having trouble breathing."

Understanding dawned on his face and she saw terror in his eyes. He closed the remaining distance between himself in the glass and leaned his arm against it. "And the TARDIS hasn't brought anything out?"

"No."

"Then there's nothing onboard that would be of use."

"There might be something," she countered. "Except all the labels are written in _bloody Gallifreyan_. You were supposed to translate them, remember? This is all your fault, you know. I can't believe you let her go so long without proper protection against the elements. Now she's got pneumonia and you're in jail!"

The Doctor looked at Tyrin. "You've got to let me out."

"No," he said.

"She could die."

Tyrin pressed his lips together. "There is only one way you could be released before your sentence is served. Martha has several items with her she could sell to earn the money you owe Kux. However, to negotiate your release and sign the papers, you'd need your wife or any other relative."

"But Rose can't make the trip here." Martha added.

"So we go to her," the Doctor said. He looked between them. "You and anyone else who needs to be there come to our ship and Martha can bring her outside to you. It's not far."

"That would be easier."

"Well, it's a bit unorthodox," Tyrin said after a moment, "but this is a special circumstance. …If Kux can be convinced to make the journey, then I don't see why not."

"Except, don't we still need those parts you filched?" Martha asked.

The Doctor nodded.

"I'll see what I can do."

Tyrin would spend the next hour contacting the vendor the Doctor had stolen from about the proposition and, hopefully, getting him to agree to go along with it, as well as organizing the required paperwork, and official transportation. Martha, meanwhile, headed back to the mercantile district to find the shop Tyrin said would be her best bet for trading the items she'd brought.

Luck was on her side. The shop was open and the vendor, a plump dark woman named Yis'si, was more than happy to do business with her. Once she'd explained the oxygen mask and bigger-on-the-inside bag, of course.

She spread the sky blue dress out on the counter first and waited patiently while Yis'si looked it over, checking the design, fabrics, and stitching, as well as the veracity of the many precious stones on the fabric. When the woman was satisfied, Martha pulled out the jacket, which was only a few shades darker than the dress, and Yis'si inspected it as well.

"How much were you wanting?" Yis'si asked as she peered at one of the jacket sleeves. So Martha explained the situation as best she could.

"They're a bit worn, but this is quality work. I'll give you nine hundred for both. Do you have anything else?"

Martha nodded and pulled a necklace from her bag. The chain was black and on the end was a single oval ruby nestled into a medallion of ornate gold. It was hers, something she'd found at a market a few weeks prior and she'd be sad to see it go, but she could always make the Doctor take her back for another since it was his fault she had to part with it in the first place.

"My, my, you certainly have many jewels. Is it custom to be decorated in jewels on your planet?"

"In a way. Having a lot is a sign of wealth and class."

"Are you wealthy, then?"

"No, but the Doctor and Rose have acquired many things on their travels." She nodded to the dress and jacket. "Though, this one is mine. It's from Pérsa Major."

"May I?"

Martha nodded and the woman lifted the pendant in her hand. "It is quite beautiful. Such craftsmanship… Might I suggest you take this down the road? My cousin, Brenan, owns a jewelry store and I think he would be interested in this. You tell him Yis'si said it's worth at least a thousand and if he tries to talk you any lower, you come back here."

Yis'si gave her the money for the clothes and sent her on her way with a smile. Up the road, Martha introduced herself to Brenan and explained that she was helping her friend pay off a debt he owed. Then she showed him the necklace and repeated what Yis'si said. He was about to give her 1200 but then she mentioned the planet of origin and he gave her 1500.

With the money safely ensconced in her bag, Martha raced back towards the station. As she ran, she checked her watch to see how she was doing on time. She had about an hour to go, and considering the extra air she'd used up while running, she figured she could make it another forty five minutes before having to switch packs. If Tyrin had been successful then that was more than enough time.

When she arrived back, the receptionist went to fetch Tyrin and her favorite officer emerged from the back not long after.

"Were you successful?"

"2400 kirtz."

Tyrin smiled. "Very nice. Oh, your Doctor asked me to make sure you were doing alright on air." He glanced down at the pack. "Am I to understand that little box carries a mix of gasses that your body requires to survive?"

"Yep."

"And the mix of gasses in our air is toxic to you?"

"Apparently. I trust the Doctor. If he says it'll kill me then it probably will."

"That is a shame." His frown seemed genuine. Oh, dear. "And yet he requires no such mask?"

"He's a different species than us."

Use of motor vehicles on this planet was restricted to only official business and their predicament wasn't deemed important enough to warrant the use of one of the few vehicles in town. So they were walking back to the TARDIS. Martha, Tyrin, another guard, someone from their courts with the papers and the Doctor's effects, the Doctor himself (in cuffs), and the stout little silver-haired man he'd stolen from. Martha kept four hundred kirtz in reserve just in case something like this happened again and gave the other nineteen hundred to Kux. The extra three hundred was for agreeing to come out to the TARDIS.

"Thank you kindly," he said, tucking the money into his pocket. "At least some of you have manners."

"Don't worry, he's gonna get a good kick from me later for this." she promised with a glare in the Doctor's direction. Then she added, "Once Rose is on the mend."

"So, his wife is really very ill?"

She nodded. "You'll believe me once you see her."

Martha glanced at the Doctor again. His nose was scrunched, his lips stretched into a tight frown. "What's wrong with you?" she called.

Everyone glanced at him.

"The TARDIS is yelling at me."

Martha snorted. Everyone else just looked confused. Their confusion only increased when they realized Martha was leading them towards the blue box sitting in the middle of nowhere.

"_That_'_s _your ship?" Kux asked. "I think can see what the problem is: most of it appears to be missing."

"No, she's perfectly intact." the Doctor informed him haughtily. "What you're seeing is merely a cloaking device."

Martha sternly ordered them all to stay outside as she unlocked the door. She couldn't breathe their air so they probably couldn't breathe hers. The Doctor didn't agree, but he didn't disagree either. That was interesting and she wondered to herself if that meant they could breathe inside the TARDIS.

She slipped inside quickly and shut the door before they could see the interior. She flipped the switch on her pack and pulled the mask off, inhaling the familiar scent of the TARDIS. Hooking the top of the mask to the back, she hurried down the halls to the infirmary.

Rose was asleep in the bed, the book lying just off her leg. She was still so pale and when Martha got closer she could hear how raspy her breathing was. Rose's favorite fluffy pink robe was lying across the chair next to her bed, along with a new t-shirt. She coaxed Rose awake by calling her name and shaking her arm gently. Rose opened her eyes blearily and looked at Martha blankly for several seconds before recognition dawned on her.

"Whasgoinon?"

"You have to get up, Rose. We need your help."

"Wha?" she yawned.

"The Doctor's gotten himself arrested. In order to get him released you have to talk to the man he stole from and sign some papers."

She yawned again, rubbing her eyes, and blinked slowly as this information processed. "They wouldn't let you do it?"

"No but you can because I told them you're his wife. Come on, wake up, and put this shirt on. The one your wearing is in a state."

Rose rubbed her eyes again and took the shirt. Martha rinsed out the bin again and explained as best she could what was going on and why the sheriff and his posse were currently waiting outside the TARDIS. When she was done, Rose had changed into the gray t-shirt and was pushing the covers off her legs. Martha helped her down from the bed and held up the robe for her to slide her arms into. Rose tied it herself and pulled her hair out from the collar. Then almost as an afterthought pulled her TARDIS key out from underneath her shirt, tucking it just under the flap of her robe.

"What's that for?"

"Just in case they need proof of marriage. I can say this necklace is a wedding band."

The TARDIS had shifted the hallways again and when they emerged they were literally next door to the console room. Martha smiled and patted the wall. Another mask was waiting on the pilots seat and Martha hooked the tube to her extra oxygen pack. There was nowhere for it to hook onto so she held onto it while Martha slid the mask over her face and switched it on. Rose took a few experimental breaths and nodded then tried to tuck the pack into the pocket of her robe. Martha pulled her mask back on and then walked down the ramp to the doors.

She poked her head out to make sure everyone was still there and slipped outside. "She's coming. Just getting her oxygen pack situated."

A moment later Rose stepped out of the TARDIS. She winced when her foot touched the ground and Martha realized too late that she wasn't wearing shoes, but Rose didn't complain and pulled the door shut behind her. In her light clothes, with her blonde hair and pasty skin, Rose looked positively alien amongst the dark-skinned natives.

"Hello," she said, smiling at them. "I think you have something of mine."

Someone chuckled.

"Rose?" Tyrin asked.

Rose opened her mouth to confirm but ended up doubling over as another round of coughing seized her. The Doctor jerked forward to help her. The bigger officer tried to stop him but the Doctor shoved him off like he was nothing and rushed to Rose's side. He grabbed onto one of her arms to hold her up and Martha held onto her other arm, rubbing her back soothingly. Rose's coughing died down and she gasped, her shoulders heaving.

"I'm alright," she assured them breathlessly. "I'm alright."

The Doctor turned to the four people watching. If they hadn't believed Rose was sick before that coughing fit had been enough to seal the deal. "Can we hurry?" he snapped, concern for her making him irritable.

"Bein' rude again."

"Yeah, well you can yell at me later."

"Oh, believe me, I plan to."

Someone laughed.

The man from the courts explained to Rose what exactly she had to do to finish the process, which included "official" negotiations with Kux, signing some papers and agreeing to take responsibility should something like this occur again, and showing some proof of marriage. She decided to start with that one and reached into her robe and pulled out her TARDIS key.

"The key?" the court man asked doubtfully.

"No, the chain. Since I never take it off, I keep the key on it as well so I don't lose either."

"And where his? Tyrin?"

Tyrin shook his head. "We found no necklace in his belongings."

"Of course not," the Doctor scoffed. "I was doing maintenance before I left. I took it off for safekeeping. Unless the TARDIS moved it, which she likes to do for some reason, it should be on the nightstand in our room. Rose, could you—"

She shook her head. "If I go back inside, I am not coming back out."

"Right, then. Martha. You know which door's mine?"

"I think so," she lied. She actually had no clue but she trusted the TARDIS to help her…and to provide a necklace.

"On the nightstand. Tell the old girl to be nice."

Martha went inside to get a necklace and they went on with the other business. It was mostly formalities, Kux stating what the Doctor had done and demanding he be paid half the value of the items and agreeing to allow him to purchase them after that. Then he consented to the Doctor being released from custody. He signed the paper and Rose followed suit. Almost immediately after she returned the pen, she was hit by another bout of coughing. Tyrin came forward and quicklyremoved the cuffs so the Doctor could put his arms around her and keep her up.

She twisted in his grip, lifting from the mask from her face, and a clump of mucus into the dirt. Unfortunately, her reflexes kicked in then and she gasped immediately afterwards. The air was thick, like she'd always imagined fog would be, and tasted salty. It made her eyes water and her nose sting. It caught in her throat and coughing even worse, unable to breathe until the Doctor pushed the mask down onto her face again. She exhaled roughly and then sucked in a nice breath of air from her pack and moaned quietly, clutching at her aching chest, and sagged against the Doctor. She felt like shit and just wanted to go back to bed and rest.

"That's it," he snapped. "I'm taking her inside."

"Yes, yes please do."

Rose glanced up. The tall dark man called officer Tyrin's eyes were wide as he stared at her. Like he hadn't expected her to be so sick or he was shocked at her reaction to breathing in their air.

The TARDIS door opened and Martha stepped out, proudly holding up a silver chain that resembled Rose's. "I found it!"

Her smile fell away when she noticed how the Doctor was holding onto Rose and her ashen skin.

"Acknowledged!" the court man cried immediately. "Now, please, take the lady inside before she gets any worse."

The Doctor nodded curtly, adjusted his grip so she was under his arm, and guided her back inside the TARDIS, plucking the necklace from Martha's hand as he went. The door shut behind him, leaving Martha outside to settle the final business. She accepted the boxes containing the Doctor's belongings and the parts he needed. With a smile of gratitude, she started to go inside, but Tyrin stopped her.

"Martha?"

She turned. "Yes?"

He bit the inside of his lip and nodded to her. "Good luck."

"Thank you. So much." Martha set the boxes on the ground, lifted her mask, and kissed him on the cheek. Slipping the mask back on her face, she watched him touch his cheek, both of which were now tinged with color, and wondered what that gesture represented to his culture.

She gave him one more grateful smile, letting him see her face properly, then lowered the mask, retrieved the boxes, and nudged the TARDIS door open with her shoulder.

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**Bad Doctor. *scolds* Toss a review my way and I wish you all the best of luck this Saturday. x-x **


	30. Her

_**THAT** **FINALE**_

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Her Wolf was on the seat. Heart rate slightly elevated, breathing imperfect, the entire body was wrong.

She'd felt it for days now. A foreign heaviness in Her circuits, the feeling of something clogging Her vents and filters, and She'd felt tired. So tired. But She'd run a diagnostic and had found no faults in any of Her systems. There was only one logical explanation. Her Wolf could feel Her warnings. Perhaps Her Wolf's body was trying to warn Her.

So she'd run a diagnostic on Her Wolf's body and discovered hostile microorganisms taking root. She'd analyzed them and determined their purpose then immediately searched everywhere in Her systems for a way to kill them without harming Her Wolf. There was nothing sufficient onboard. There had not been for some time. She'd tried to warn the Dark Girl but she had not understood. Neither had Her Doctor. He'd mistaken Her warning as pleas for maintenance and landed them on this lump of rock with air incompatible with human bodies. Such frail things they were.

The moment the Dark Girl shut Her doors the TARDIS went into action. Her Doctor sent Her into the vortex and She _flew_.

He set coordinates. She ignored them as She often did.

_No, you fool, that is the wrong century, too far ahead. Their medicines are incompatible with her body. _This_ century has the most effective cure that her body can work with._

When Her Sisters were alive, it was considered bad etiquette to not follow the precise directions of your Time Lord or Lady. But then what fun would that be? She stole him so She could see the universe. Sometimes he got to pick the destination, sometimes She did. It was fair. But sometimes she sensed disturbances that needed resolving and She saw him there doing just that, so She took them there, landed them near to the action, and waited.

Right now there was no room for error. The sooner Her Wolf was fixed, the sooner She would be as well. She was not enjoying the sensation of feeling…sick. That was the word, wasn't it? Sick: a term describing a less than optimal state of being in the English language. Yes.

"Where are we going?" the Dark Girl will ask. Spoken language: English. All present understand. Translation not required.

"65th century. They have the best medicines that are still entirely compatible with her system." Her Doctor will reply.

"What do you mean 'compatible'?"

"The human body evolves over time. As you progress so do the sicknesses and the medicines. The 65th century is about as advanced as your bodies can handle and after that their version of pneumonia is too different."

She entered the Earth year 6389 and quickly scanned the planet for all medical facilities. She selected a large one in London with traces of arton energy indicating the presence of time travelers recently or creatures familiar with the vortex. Perhaps another of Her Sisters had been here. This would do. She materialized in an alley across the street from the hospital.

The Dark Girl and Her Doctor took Her Wolf into the hospital and She waited for them to return. Instead of spending time properly analyzing the planet and time in which they'd landed as She usually did, She spent the time they were away to rearrange.

Her Doctor's Room moved back to its place next to His Rose's. The Dark Girl's room three doors to the left. The kitchen and infirmary placed one corridor over with the library. All of them located near to the console room. She started a filtering cycle to purge and cleanse the air fowled by illness. She moved Her Doctor's things he'd left in the console room to his room, cleaned the infirmary, moved the book to Her Wolf's room, and returned the oxygen packs and masks to the storage cupboards.

She waited.

She monitored the happenings inside the hospital through her bonds to Her Wolf and Her Doctor. A physician was examining Her Wolf and speaking with the Dark Girl and Her Doctor. There seemed to be some disbelief at Her Wolf being out of her time. They would scan her system and believe. They would help her.

She waited.

Time flowed past her. No danger, no urgency. They were safe and Her Wolf would be fine.

Her Doctor, Her Wolf, and the Dark Girl returned and She greeted them with a light hum, the only form of speech She possessed that their ears could process. Her Doctor sent her into the vortex and smiled, patting Her console, and went to take His Rose to lie down.

They would be fine.

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**Leave me a review? :3 I'M GOING BACK UNDER MY BLANKET TENT IF ANYONE NEEDS ME **


	31. Recovery

**A reminder to the guest reviewers and those of you with private messaging disabled - I can't respond to you.**

**Oh and I should probably mention, while I do have plans for this story covering up til season 6, as of right now I am not touching season 7 with a ten foot long pole. Except for one episode. **

* * *

Medicine in the 65th century was remarkable and extremely effective on her system. After just three days of antibiotics, Rose was back on her feet. That was not to say she still wasn't a little weak, but she was no longer hacking up her lungs or losing her lunch, and her fever had all but gone. Everyone was relieved, including the TARDIS.

The only negative was that the antibiotics were designed for a more advanced body and therefore consumed a lot of her energy. She was lucky enough to be awake for eight hours within a twenty-four hour period and when she was actually awake she rarely had the energy to do more than the basics or relocate herself somewhere that wasn't her bedroom.

The Doctor had been tripping over his own limbs to take care of her, fetching food, cuddling, reading with her, keeping tabs on her fever, and playing board and card games that Martha joined in on sometimes. The farthest he strayed from her was to install the parts that had caused all the fuss, but then he was right back to Rose. His presence also served another purpose. Sick as she was, it wouldn't do for Rose to be violently jarred from nightmares. He finally told her what he'd been doing to soothe her mind and they discovered that her falling asleep with the knowledge helped keep the nightmares at bay.

The TARDIS rivaled his coddling. The temperature in Rose's room was strictly regulated, automatically adjusting whenever she got chills. If Rose wanted something to eat, they always found the exact ingredients needed to make it waiting in the kitchen. Whenever Rose settled into bed at night her blankets and sheets were warm but not warm enough to cause her discomfort. She dredged up long neglected board games for them to play, ensured the door to the library always opened to the films section, and relocated the gardens near Rose's room if she wanted some fresh air.

"Blimey, if this is the kind of treatment I'd get, I really need to get sick." Martha joked on the second day while the Doctor was fixing lunch. "Though, I don't think the Doctor would be as panicky."

"Probably not. Besides, it's very difficult for us to get sick."

"What do you mean?"

Rose sighed and leaned back against her headboard. "When you travel in the TARDIS you pick up this bit of background radiation. It's harmless, just sort of there, but it does make it really difficult for us to get sick. Whenever I do, it's never as bad as it could've been."

"But you were really sick," Martha pointed out. "You're saying you should've been worse?"

She nodded.

"Well, you set yourself up for it. Going to all those places with your body's natural defenses low?"

"Yeah, I know. I know," she grumbled.

On day four they left the vortex for the first time. They were all stir crazy. Rose especially. It had been well over a week since she'd left, her brief visit in the hospital notwithstanding, and she wanted to breathe in some fresh air. So they went to Earth, Lake Tahoe, sometime before European colonization began. No questions, no fuss, and no one to bother them—just the three of them, the TARDIS, some sand, and clear blue lake water that had yet to know any form of pollution.

They landed in the early summer on a small stretch of sand on the southern shore and stepped out, breathing in the fresh air of their planet and enjoying the warm sunlight. Rose lingered in the doorway behind them, casting nervous glances at the sky where she could see the tip of the sun peaking across the TARDIS. The Doctor held out his hand and, taking a deep breath, she stepped out onto the warm sand and slipped her hand into his.

She inhaled sharply when she felt the warmth of the sun touch her skin and exhaled shakily. There was no reason to be afraid, she told herself. This wasn't Torajji. This was her sun. Sol. The same one that had kept her alive for her entire life on Earth and had never harmed her except for the occasional sunburn. With the strong sunscreen she'd put on just before coming outside, that wasn't likely to happen today.

Rose wore a light green shirt that hung off one shoulder and a pair of cream capris. The first outfit she'd worn in a week that wasn't chosen with the expectation to fall asleep sometime while wearing it. After so long of visiting cool places and being inside the temperate environment of the TARDIS, she had to admit that summer felt wonderful. She hadn't realized how much she'd missed it. And she was pleased to discover after several minutes of being exposed to it, the heat didn't make her feel trapped or afraid. She buried her toes in the warm and smiled as the breeze from the lake blew against her skin, tickling her cheeks and blowing her hair out behind her.

A pair of cool arms encircled her waist. She smiled and leaned back ever so slightly. "How are you feeling?" he asked

Rose covered his hands with hers. "Happy."

She heard the smile in his voice. "Not what I meant."

"I'm awake," she said, "and I don't feel like I'm about to fall over. Same as five minutes ago."

He pressed a kiss against the top of her head. "Good. Remember our deal, though. Don't go where we can't see you and if you start feeling tired at all, you tell me straight away."

"Yes, _Mum_." She twisted around in his grip and frowned at him. "Am I allowed to walk in the water or are you worried I might fall asleep and drown?"

"Cheeky." He tapped her on the nose with his forefinger.

Her necklace gleamed in the sunlight and he automatically glanced down at it. Rose stretched her neck up and kissed his still outstretched finger then turned and scrambled down towards the water. He watched her go. She stopped about ankle-deep and stared out at the vast expanse of Lake Tahoe. He noted the way her shoulders slowly relaxed and her hands turned, fingers spreading wide. He wished he could see her face.

Martha appeared beside him with a folded yellow blanket in her arms. She pinched the corners in her fingers and let the rest drop from her arms. It unfurled and she flapped it out into the air, lowering it slowly onto the sand. She slid her palms together, satisfied, then plopped unceremoniously onto it. She stretched out on her back, folding her arms behind her head, and wiggled around for a few moments to get comfortable.

"Alright, I'm ready." she announced, eyes closed. "You may begin now."

The Doctor lifted his eyebrows. What was she on about now? "What?"

She peeked at him. "You're the tour guide of the universe. Tell me about Lake Tahoo."

"Tahoe," he corrected, sitting down on the edge of the blanket, and proceeded to do just that. How it was formed millions of years ago by faults, the people that would live around the lake, what the settlers would make of it, the vacation resorts of her time, what would become of the lake over the 21st century, and how the lake would ultimately meet its end in the 33rd.

He kept his eyes on Rose almost the entire time. She wasn't doing much, just walking up and down a small area of the shallows, no farther than knee-deep into the lake. She bent at the waist and slid her fingers through the water. Cupped her hands and brought water up to her face. Shook off the residual drops. Tilted her head towards the sun and smiled. The ease with which she bared her face to the sun both surprised him and made him smile proudly. She was strong, his Rose.

"Doctor," said Martha. "Doctor?"

He didn't look away from Rose. "Hmm?"

"Didn't you say the Washoe tribe lived on the southern shores in the summer?"

"Mmhmm."

"It's summer. We're on the southern half of the lake."

"Mmhmm."

"What is that it? Just gonna sit there and stare at Rose?"

"Mmhmm."

"Would you _please_ take this seriously? What if they find us? They've probably never seen white or black people before." A thought occurred to her. "What if they try to scalp us?!"

_Oh, of all the ridiculous…_ He did look away from Rose then and frowned at Martha, unimpressed. "Seriously? You're worried about scalping?"

"YES! Not all of us can switch bodies when we die and I like my head intact, ta."

He rolled his eyes in exasperation. Then again, this was the woman who worried about getting carted off when they landed and mingled anytime before the 13th Amendment. "That won't be popular for centuries," he explained as patiently as he could. "And even then it only happens during the wars with the colonials. You're right, the people here probably have never seen other races before, but they also haven't learned to associate other races as invaders who want their land. They probably would consider us spirits, if anything. Especially her."

He nodded towards Rose who was standing in the shallows looking radiant in the sun.

"In any case, they probably don't even know we're here, and if they do they we are clearly are weaponless and nonthreatening. I think we'll be fine."

"If you say so."

Martha sat up and leaned back on her hands. She was tempted to get up and join Rose out there but she got the feeling her friend was enjoying the time on her own. She'd scarcely had a private moment over the past few days. Plus Martha didn't often get the chance to sit with just the Doctor. She was undeniably closer to Rose and sometimes she wasn't sure if she'd gained a best friend or a sister. Did it matter? They were like her family now. It made being away from her real family easier and it made her happy to see them happy.

Every time they snuggled up together on the couch or exchanged any sort of kiss, Martha would smile smugly to herself, knowing she'd helped them get a move on. Speaking of which…she probably wouldn't get another chance at this.

"So, have you two shagged yet?"

The Doctor sputtered and his eyes went wide with shock and something a little like terror. "Th-that's…I d-don't think that's any of your business."

"That'll be a no, then."

"Martha!"

Martha arched her eyebrows and gave him a look. "What's the hold up? Don't tell me you're scared."

He looked away resolutely. "I am not having this conversation with you."

"Hmm…I'm gonna go with 'not scared' on this one. So, are you not compatible?"

"We are not discussing this."

She ignored him. "Do you not have the right bits or something?"

The Doctor's exhale sounded almost like a growl. "Martha, do you recall what I told you in the library a few months ago? The day I took you both to Kataa Flo Ko?"

She had to think about it for a moment but then she nodded. "About Gallifreyan romancing and stuff, right?"

"If that's what you want to call it," he allowed. "Do you remember what I said about displaying affection?"

"Holding hands equals hugging, hugging is like kissing, kissing is serious."

He nodded slowly. "And sex was something else entirely. My people, for the most part, were sterile so many marriages were arranged based on DNA compatibilities and the likelihood the couple could produce a natural child. Every couple, whether Time Lord or not, was expected to attempt to have a child naturally, but almost every time they failed and eventually they each gave DNA samples and infants were created through the Looms."

"Looms?" she asked, picturing the weaving device from Earth.

"That's what we called them. You'd call it being grown in a lab."

"Were you?"

The Doctor smiled. "Sometimes couples were lucky and they actually did conceive. But it was a very rare thing, only five times in the last thousand years. "

"And you were one of them," she guessed.

He nodded. "Yes, I am."

Martha couldn't help but chuckle at the twinge of pride in his voice. It must have been something of a status. She could imagine him bragging about it as he was growing up. "So why are you telling me this?" she asked.

"I told Rose about the Looms months ago, after our visit to a planet called Cekir where babies are literally delivered by the stork. Well, not a stork, they're actually called Yolatva and they're bright green instead of white and—"

"Doctor."

He glanced down at her momentarily. "Sex was only done in an attempt reproduce and most couples ceased when it became clear they could not conceive."

Martha sighed. "Are you telling me you're not—?"

"Let me finish."

"Okay."

"They stopped because most couples in the later days were in arranged marriages. Some did love each other, but they weren't _in love_. Combined with repressed urges, they usually felt no need for intimacy. But for couples in love, from what I heard, it was different. Telepathy played a part in it and they could form a permanent bond, but I never…" he trailed off.

Martha didn't realize she was holding her breath until her chest started to hurt. She exhaled, drawing in a deep breath of air as she _finally_ got it. She'd already known he was afraid of his feelings for Rose since her life was so short compared to his, but this revelation brought things into a whole new light. She would not pretend to understand the telepathy aspect he mentioned, but the word 'permanent' was clear enough. If he allowed himself to love Rose fully, what would happen to him when she was gone?

As if reading her mind, the Doctor murmured, "You told me to live in the moment, before. Carpe diem. Now answer me this: is it worth it to enjoy something you can only have for a moment if the aftermath will be unbearable?"

She had no answer.

Martha gazed out across the serene landscape again. The mountains were gorgeous and the trees were lush and green. Sunlight reflected off the clear blue water as it danced, rippling and swelling as the wind blew across. She thought she saw smoke in the distance, probably from a small fire from in campsite of the tribe. He was right, they were a long way off; little chance they'd be found out. Her eyes flicked to Rose again. She really did seem to be enjoying herself.

Rose shifted her feet in the sand to find better purchase. The small waves buffet her legs but she held firm. She wanted to see if it would work.

A tiny silver fish swam closer to examine her. Another followed. Then another. And another. She grinned. They swam around her curiously, slowly drifting closer. She felt the light brush of their fins and mouths against her skin as they decided she was not a threat. It was difficult to hold perfectly still, to not wiggle her toes, or twitch whenever they made contact.

If the Doctor was standing with her, this was when he'd start telling her about the limited memories of fish. How they could not hold thoughts for more than a few seconds in some cases. She'd been standing there for several minutes, a small eternity to a fish, and they'd accepted her as a natural part of their environment. She wondered what it would be like to not remember and immediately decided that she did not want to know.

Eventually, though, her limbs began to tire from holding so still and she figured her friends ashore would be wondering if she'd fallen asleep standing up. With one final look at the fish scuttling around, she lifted one foot from the water. They knew from the moment she shifted that there was change, felt the water being displaced around them in an unnatural way, and had cleared off before she even took a step backwards. Rose felt a little bad for spooking them but they would forget she'd ever been there soon enough.

She waded back towards shore, locating the Doctor and Martha, and lifted her hand in a wave. The Doctor was watching her and waved back. Martha noticed his gesture and followed suit a moment later. Before Rose had fully left the water, a strong gust of wind knocked into her. She turned to face it, spreading her arms wide, and inhaled as the power of the wind swept against her body and whipped her hair and clothes. It was thrilling, stimulating the rush she got every time she ran with the Doctor, whether from an enemy or just because they could. She lifted her head to the sky and whooped loudly.

When the wind died down she exhaled heavily and spun around, padding through the sand to the Doctor and Martha. She was stretched out on a pastel yellow blanket and he was sitting cross-legged on his coat.

"Having fun?" the Doctor asked. Then he blinked in surprise when Rose sat down in his lap. She shifted around so she was more comfortable then settled back against his chest, her head pillowed on his shoulder, and her legs stretched out in front of his.

"Yep. What about you? You've just been sittin' here. Figured you'd be climbin' a tree or something by now."

"Rose Tyler, of the three people sitting on this beach, I am the least likely to be climbing any trees. Not descended from apes, me."

His voice rumbled in her ear and she smiled, her eyes sliding shut. "Of course."

"I was telling Martha about Lake Tahoe earlier. Would you like to hear?"

She nodded and he launched into his lecture. She was able to follow along relatively easily. There weren't any scientific terms she hadn't heard before and she liked hearing about cultures. But after a few minutes she stopped paying attention to the words and just focused on the way his voice rumbled in his chest. The way his cheek was pressed against her head and his lips would occasionally brush her temple. The way his arms felt around her. It was bliss.

Before long she felt the all too familiar tug of exhaustion pulling at her. She'd had more physical activity in the last hour than she'd had in days and she was used to falling asleep with his voice in her ear. And the sunlight felt quite nice…

Martha noted the sudden silence and looked around in surprise. The Doctor had stopped talking and Rose appeared to have fallen asleep. She knew they were sleeping together—or, well, sharing a bed while they slept—so this couldn't be the first time he'd seen her asleep, but he was studying her with intense curiosity. Brushing the hair from her face and lowering her onto the blanket that Martha had vacated.

Half an hour passed and Martha had walked around the small beach four times and found two interesting rocks to keep as souvenirs. It was around then she decided that she was bored and returned to the blanket where the Doctor sat next to the sleeping form of Rose in silent vigil.

"Ready to go?" he asked when she got near.

"Yeah."

He gently lifted Rose from the blanket and cradled her in his arms. Martha folded the blanket messily, picked up his jacket, and led the way up to the TARDIS. Balancing them both in one arm, she maneuvered her other hand under her shirt and pulled out her key.

"I answered my own question," he told her quietly.

Martha unlocked the door swiftly and nudged it open with her shoulder. "But was it the right answer?"

"I think so."

Days passed and Rose got better. The last of the antibiotics worked through her system and she was left tired, but healthy. She was given teas to boost her strength and replenish the energy the medicine had used up. They took her somewhere on Earth every day. They'd spend hours outside so she could get more comfortable being out in the sun and absorb some much-needed vitamin D. They always brought an umbrella so if she ever grew panicked she would have something to retreat under.

One time they brought a television outside to watch movies. Another time they brought cards, and the time after they brought board games. Whenever she fell asleep—and it was always _when_ rather than _if—_the Doctor would make sure she was comfortable on a blanket or his coat then continue on with the game with Martha or resume the film.

Then one day she didn't fall asleep at any point during their excursion.

So the next day they actually went out. He took them to a large village in Germany, sometime during the 1600s and they spent hours walking around. Rose stayed alert the entire time and enjoyed every minute of it. She fell asleep earlier than normal that night, though. They went on similar excursions for the next week with Rose regaining more of her strength every day, so that by the end of the week in 1868, when they had to get the hell out of Dodge, Rose was able to run on her own two feet back to the TARDIS. They laughed for a long time afterwards.

She was able to eat hot meals again and she no longer recoiled at the sight of a candle. The weight she'd lost came back. Her skin lost its sickly pallor, darkening to a healthy tan helped along from hours basking in the sun. Martha helped her bleach her roots. She applied makeup, slipped on her favorite pair of jeans, a pink t-shirt, black loose vest, and trainers. And for the first time in weeks Rose Tyler felt like herself.

She bounded into the control room with a smile on her face that the Doctor mirrored.

"Okay. Let's go save the world," she said.

His smile dropped into a concerned frown and he reached for the monitor. "What?"

"You heard me. Let's go!"

"Wha—but…" he looked at the display screen. "There's nothing wrong? No distress signals or anomalies screaming for attention. Do you know something I don't?"

"No, I just want to save the world."

The corner of the Doctor's mouth twitched upwards. "Wake up this morning with a craving?"

"Yes, actually. I've been rather useless for ages now and I'd like to dosomething."

"You're not useless."

She frowned at him. "Doctor, I could barely walk to the loo on my own half the time. That's about as useless as I can get. I want to help someone. And I'm not talkin' about helpin' an old lady across the street."

"Yeah, but…save the world? Are you sure your up for anything on a world-saving scale?" he fretted and she rolled her eyes. Coddling had been nice when it was necessary but it was getting frustrating. Her ire did not escape his notice. "How about something smaller instead? We can save a town. There's always a town that needs saving on Earth."

Rose rolled her eyes again. "Alright, fine. Let's go save a town."

But of course they ended up saving the world anyway.

* * *

**Because that's how things work for them. This brings us to the end of our interim. Up next is... not what you think.**

**Review pretty please? :3 **


	32. Four Things and a Lizard

**If you haven't heard the news (and it's been confirmed by the BBC) Matt Smith is leaving Doctor Who. Eleven will be regenerating at the end of the Christmas Special.**

**Btw guys? None of you guessed what this chapter was gonna be about. :D**

* * *

"Rose! Rose!"

Rose whirled around mid-step at the sound of her name, searching for someone she recognized and trying to identify the voice. No one was even paying any attention her except for a short woman with long blonde hair that looked about her age. She was standing just outside the shop they'd got out in front of, wearing a midnight blue dress with see-through sleeves over a burgundy tank and black leggings, with a purple folder clutched in her hand.

The girl stared at Rose almost expectantly with the hugest smile on her face.

"Um…yes?" Rose asked.

Her eyes flicked over her Rose's shoulder to the Doctor and Martha and her grin got even wider. "It's you! Oh my God, it's you! You're alive!"

Rose glanced at the Doctor for help. "Sorry, do I know you?"

The woman's face fell. "You don't remember me."

Martha tugged on Rose's arm. "We don't have time for this. Migration's started."

Rose spared her a glance then explained to the woman, "I've never met you."

"No, but… It's me, Sally Sparrow."

"Sorry," the Doctor apologized. He approached the woman with a reassuring smile. "Hello, I'm the Doctor."

"I know."

His grin widened and Rose saw the twinkle in his eye that came with meeting new people and a mystery. "Well, then. Our lives are sort of complicated. Things don't always happen in the right order. Gets confusing."

"Of course!" Sally realized. "You're time travellers. It hasn't happened yet! None of it, it's still in your future!"

"What hasn't happened?"

"Uh, guys?" Martha called. "Twenty minutes to Red hatching."

"It was me," Sally said to herself. "Oh, for God's sake, it was me all along. You got it all from me! And that's how you recognized me without my picture!"

"Got what?" the Doctor asked.

"What are you talking about?" Rose asked.

"Okay. Listen," she told them. "One day you're going to get stuck in 1969. Make sure you've got this with you." she handed the folder to the Doctor. "You're going to need it."

"Doctor! Rose!" Martha called impatiently.

The Doctor turned, pointing at Martha, and spoke quickly to the woman. "Yeah, listen, got to dash…things happening. Well, four things. Well, four things and a lizard."

Sally grinned and nodded. "Okay. No worries, on you go. See you around some day. "

The Doctor smiled at her and then his smile waned as he noticed the brown-haired young man approaching them with a milk bottle clutched in his hand. The man froze, eyes widening, and his jaw dropped. Sally watched him carefully, gauging his reaction, then slipped her hand into his. The man looked down at their hands in surprise and Sally smiled at him.

Turning back to them, she gave one final smile. "Goodbye and good luck."

Rose lifted her eyebrows curiously. It wasn't every day she met someone who'd already met her. While she wasn't eager to get stuck in 1969, she was looking forward to meeting Sally Sparrow properly.

The Doctor folded the folder carefully and pocketed it. He slipped his now free hand into Rose's and tugged her along. She threw one last glance over her shoulder at the retreating couple then followed the Doctor and Martha down the streets. She didn't ask them what that had all been about and they didn't bring it up. They had more important things to worry about. Five things, actually, and they all were tied together in a horrible knot the three time travellers were being forced to unravel.

Seven days ago an Asokrian armada attempted to make contact with Earth with systems beyond anything the planet could detect in this century. So, failing at that, they'd sent an ambassador. The ambassador's ship had malfunctioned and he'd crashed to Earth, scaring the hell out of a few people out in the French countryside. Then the ambassador had been pursued and captured, but not before sending one final distress message to the armada.

It was only by sheer luck the TARDIS had caught the final warning being sent towards Earth.

The TARDIS had materialized in the command ship and claimed to represent Earth. After another near death, they managed to convince them they'd come in peace. So the Asokrian commander explained the situation. Apparently a princess named Notte from their planet had run away from home and came to this backwater corner of the galaxy to hide. She didn't know her ship had a tracking device that informed her parents where she'd landed. They'd sent the armada after her. Their attempts to contact Earth explain the situation and request permission to land and retrieve their wayward royal had ended badly. They'd been planning to surround the planet and invade it to retrieve her.

"Well, that won't to anything except terrify the planet and get your people killed," the Doctor had told them. "The humans are only just accepting the existence of aliens and their recent encounters have been catastrophic. They'll shoot first and ask questions later."

"Then what do you propose, Doctor?" Commander Xaru had asked.

"Tell me, did your ambassador give a description of who was chasing him? Don't suppose by any chance it was a bunch of blokes in red berets?"

It was. The Doctor agreed to go talk to UNIT and secure the release of the ambassador. Well, after proving to UNIT he was who he said he was (which took longer than he'd liked), the Doctor described the situation. Unfortunately, some new protocols prohibited the release of the ambassador until the entire situation was sorted.

Not wanting to sic the military on the poor princess, the Doctor landed them in a beautiful garden where some friends of his lived. He called them Oerthians.

At first sight, Martha mistook them for large Easter eggs. Then their ears perked up and they moved and she saw they resembled oversized fluffy rabbits with pastel fur with deeply colored eyes. The Doctor told them who he was and they hopped over to greet them. Oerthians were notoriously good trackers and they agreed to scour London for Notte and be back within two hours.

The Doctor suggested they went inside for tea while they waited and Martha asked where they were. So he led her around the hedges and gestured to Buckingham Palace.

She nearly had a heart attack. "I'm not dressed to meet the queen!"

"If it helps, you look much nicer than I did."

No, it did not help, and she refused to go in. So they waited in the little section of the Buckingham gardens that the Oerthians called home. It was a private area of the garden, for obvious reasons, and the Doctor reckoned they should be able to wait around unnoticed. Plus he was acquainted with the queen—no, not in that way, Martha, and he still had no idea why Lizzie the First hated him—so they were allowed to be there. It was going well until a guard found them and then they'd had to leg it back to the TARDIS.

"I thought you were friends with the queen!" Rose had shrieked.

"The queen, yes! That guy, no!"

A few minutes later while the Doctor was fiddling with something on the monitor, Rose had peeked outside to see if the guard was gone. He wasn't and he had three others with him. Two seconds later two guns were pointed at her forehead. She squeaked in alarm and slammed the door shut. How the hell were they supposed to communicate with the Oerthians when they were trapped inside?

Five more minutes passed in relative silence and then there was a knock at the door. The Doctor looked up, grinned, and told Martha to get it. The medical student frowned at him but had done as asked. She eased the door open, took one look at who was outside, and promptly slammed the door with a loud gasp.

"YOU GIT!" she'd howled at the Doctor while he roared with laughter.

He pranced down the ramp and opened the door. "Good afternoon, your majesty. Sorry about my companion, she feels she isn't appropriately dressed to meet you."

"I'm gonna murder him," Martha growled to Rose.

The Oerthians returned an hour later, having located princess Notte in Chelsea. They hadn't approached her, though. Didn't want to get involved in intergalactic politics. As payment for their help the Doctor promised to mention them as little as possible. Good enough for the Oerthians.

The shop the princess had found work in was easy enough to locate. It was one of those little teen stores with pop culture clothing and accessories, kind of like Hot Topic, except it was noticeably less black. She fit right in among the other employees. Asokrians were similar in many ways to humans. Their biology was slightly different, and from the region Notte hailed from their eyes were shades of purple or green and their hair came in different shades of blue.

She'd approached them with a smile and greeted them in English—at least, Rose assumed it was English, because how else could she be working in a shop? She must have some translator technology.

"Can I help you?"

The Doctor smiled, hands in his pockets, the very picture of relaxed. "Yes, I think you can, princess."

The princess's face darkened almost instantaneously and Rose wondered if the Doctor had spoken in her native tongue. "Who are you?"

"My name's the Doctor. I'm here on behalf of Commander Xaru, the United Intelligence Taskforce, and as of fifteen minutes ago, Queen Elizabeth."

Notte licked her lips nervously. "Commander Xaru?"

"Yeah," he drawled. "Seems your parents took issue with your grand caper. They sent the armada."

"I'm not going back," she said. "You can't make me."

"Actually, I think you'll find I can." The Doctor countered in the same tone as before. "I'm not sure how much you know about this planet, but they've been invaded three times in the last year or so. All thwarted by me, of course. But the armada has exhausted all their other options besides surrounding and landing on this planet to find you. If they do, Earth will most likely retaliate. I'm not going to have Earth involved in an intergalactic war because a young princess ran away from home. So you will be going back, your highness."

"As I said, you can't make me leave. I'll scream and put up a fuss and the people here won't let you remove me."

"I'm sorry, did you not just hear me? I'm currently representing Earth's primary defense against aliens and the monarch of the ground you're standing on. I'm not going to risk this planet because of you," he growled with a trace of the Oncoming Storm on his face. Not enough to terrify her but enough that she understood what she was dealing with. "Now, you can either cooperate with us or you'll be removed by force. But you will be leaving with us, one way or the other."

Notte swallowed. "I can't go home."

"Why? …Were you threatened?"

"N-no, I wasn't, but… I can't go home." She wrung her hands nervously. "I took something with me when I left. A Red egg."

The Doctor rolled his eyes and sighed. "And what possessed you to do something so moronic? I'm surprised the Red mother didn't come after you herself."

"Jossa can just make another and…I wanted a friend," Notte admitted. "The Red wanted to come with me, too, or else I would've never been able to remove the egg. I didn't plan on staying on this planet forever and I—I didn't want to travel alone."

Something in her reason must've struck a chord in the Doctor because he sighed. "I'm sure your parents and Jossa will forgive you. Get the egg, go tell your boss you quit, and let's go."

"I…don't have it anymore." she sniffled.

The Doctor's eyes widened. Not good. "Where is it?"

The Asokrian armada was waiting in orbit around Jupiter awaiting the return of their ambassador and princess. The ambassador was in the custody of UNIT awaiting proof that the princess had been found. The princess was sorting her affairs on Earth awaiting the return of her Red egg. The egg been stolen by a wyvern and the wyverns were due to begin their annual migration to Ireland any time now.

And to top it all off, the egg was about to hatch and when it did, the tiny life inside would either fall to its death or be eaten.

So to rescue the egg, they had to find the tallest building in the area of London the wyverns would fly over, figure out which one had the egg, and shoot it with an arrow tipped with bronze. It wouldn't permanently damage the beast, but it would be enough to bring it down for a few minutes. And, in its hurry to find stable ground to land on, it would likely go for the nearest surface, where the three time travellers would be ready to rescue the egg.

"So, how many are going to be migrating?" Rose asked as they ran.

"Oh…about a hundred," the Doctor replied after a moment.

"One hundred?!"

"Maybe two hundred…"

"Doctor!"

Martha rolled her eyes with a groan.

A flash of the psychic paper and three uses of the sonic screwdriver later, the three of them were standing atop of the tallest building around. They didn't have time to waste. Already the lead wyverns were flying overhead, mostly transparent in the bright sunlight. The Doctor pulled the pairs binocular goggles he'd modified from his pocket and handed them out, keeping an unmodified pair for himself. He'd claimed he didn't need the adjustments to see the wyverns.

"Remember, the wyvern we're looking for has a blue belly and should be carrying the egg in one of its hands." The three of them stood in a semi-circle facing outward so they had the best chance of seeing as many wyverns as possible. "Also, try to enjoy this if you can. You're never going to see something like this again unless you're very lucky. Or unless you have a device that lets you see through the ultraviolet sheen their scales give off at exposure to sunlight in thin air. But egg first, enjoying second. I don't fancy chasing the flight to Ireland. Right, here we go!"

The main group of wyverns was passing overhead, unbeknownst to the millions of people below. Rose inhaled slowly as her eyes flitted from body to body. They came in every color of the rainbow, mostly in deep or muted shades. Beautiful. Terrifying. She wanted to have another look sometime when they weren't on a mission. Focusing on their limbs, she was dismayed to realize a lot of them had various items clutched in their claws. Mostly food items—one of them had a still struggling cow—but she spotted one of them carrying a flat screen TV and decided she didn't want to know why.

"How big's this egg?" Martha asked.

"About the size of two stacked footballs."

"Oh, that makes things eas—there! Look!"

The Doctor spun around and followed the path of her finger. "That one has a purple belly," he said after a moment. "And that's not an egg. It's a duffle bag."

"Whoops."

A few seconds later she felt the Doctor tense beside her and a second after that he was pulling the bow over his head. "Arrow!" he barked.

Martha turned so her back was to him and he pulled an arrow from the quiver. He took his stance and knocked the arrow, drawing the bowstring back. Rose lifted her eyebrows though she wasn't really surprised. She'd figured he knew archery when he opted to use a bow and arrow to shoot down the flying lizard instead of a gun with bronze-tipped bullets or something. He followed the path of one of the wyverns as it drew closer and then fired.

He had another arrow nocked and ready before the first was halfway to the flight.

Rose followed it's progress through her goggles. By the time she realized it would miss—just barely grazing the beast's left flank—the Doctor had predicted the trajectory and the way the wyvern would swerve in alarm and had another arrow sailing for that spot.

The arrow pierced the scales on the wyvern's chest and it shrieked in alarm. She could hear it's scream all the way down on the building and she wondered what it sounded like to the oblivious people below. The bronze began to take affect and the wyvern started to drop from the sky, pumping its wings furiously to keep up. Rose heard another arrow fly up and saw it stick in the wyvern's neck. Their other wyverns realized they were under attack and scattered up and away, abandoning the one to its fate.

"Get back!" the Doctor barked, grabbing his companion's arms and hauling them out of the way. The wyvern descended quickly and, as the Doctor had predicted, aimed for the building where they were.

The wyvern had enough control left to make a somewhat graceful landing but they felt the building shake under its weight. It really was quite beautiful up close. Through the ultraviolet filters in their goggles they could see the wyvern had beautiful midnight blue scales and lighter belly. It crouched there, panting loudly, golden eyes fixed on them.

"Right," the Doctor said slowly. "We don't have long. Rose, you know the setting to lock doors?" He handed her the sonic. "Do it. We don't want anyone bursting out here. We're low enough that it can be seen up close without goggles. Martha, do you know how to work a bow?"

"Nope."

"Well at least make it look like you can. They're smart creatures." He handed her the bow then started towards the dragon.

Rose ran over to the stairway door to lock it. Martha pulled an arrow from the quiver and tried to mimic what she'd seen the Doctor do. Once she was sure she could at least appear threatening and crept after him. The Doctor appeared to be…speaking to it.

"—and you've got something that I need in your hand right there. You stole it yesterday," he said calmly. The wyvern stared at him. "Come on, girl, hand it over."

The wyvern growled quietly.

"You don't really want it, believe me. That's an alien egg. Comes from a world out in the stars and it's about to hatch. You'd probably make yourself sick. Oh, I'll tell you what: you give me the little Red there and I'll get those arrows out. I'll even give you a salve to help get you back in the air."

"Doctor, can it understand you?" Martha asked.

"She can, yes. And I can understand her."

"Why can't I?"

"It's mostly a telepathic communication, but it's also a bit of a spoken language, the kind the TARDIS doesn't translate. She knows exactly what I want and what I'm offering."

"So why did we shoot her?"

"To get her attention. What? Did you think we were going to actually try and kill a wyvern? In the middle of London, no less!" He shook his head. "Now, if the lady would be so kind as to give me the egg, we can get you sorted, and we'll all be on our way."

Growling, the wyvern slowly extended her long midnight blue arm towards them and held out the large crimson Red egg. He took a few steps closer and carefully took the egg from her. "Thank you. Oh, and just in the nick of time, too. Rose? Give us a hand?"

Rose walked up to them, slipped the sonic into his coat pocket, and held her arms out for the egg. She cradled it close to the chest and squeaked in surprise. "I can fell it moving."

"Its about to hatch," the Doctor explained. "Any minute now. Alright now, I' gonna get these arrows out…"

The two women watched him carefully remove the arrow from the wyvern's chest. A bit of blood trickled from the small hole in her shining scales but the Doctor immediately poured a clear liquid over the wound. The wyvern let out a low grumble that sounded pleased then lowered her neck so he could remove the other. He spoke a quiet encouragement then pulled.

Rose, meanwhile, was trying her best to keep hold of the Red egg. The tiny life inside was ready to greet the world, turning and wriggling and pushing against the shell.

The Doctor patted the wyvern's neck gently. "Alright, thank you very much. Good luck on your trip. Stay warm."

The wyvern snorted and waited for the Doctor to move a few paces away before she stretched her arms wide and flapped her wings, pushing off from the roof. They watched her soar high into the air, do a graceful flip, then flew off in the direction of her clan.

Martha lowered the bow.

The Doctor smacked his hands together and spun around, grinning. "Well, that went a lot better than I'd hoped. Rose, how's junior?"

"Wiggling," she answered, shifting her grip.

"Can you keep ahold of her?"

She bit her lip, adjusting again. "I think so, yeah. But we don't have long."

"No, we don't," he agreed, pulling the sonic from his pocket. "First living thing that Red sees it'll consider mum."

"Oh, blimey."

By the time they made it back to the hostel where Notte had been living the egg was already starting to crack. The Asokrian princess was waiting by the TARDIS in the small alleyway between the buildings. Her eyes lit up when she saw the hatching Red and held out her arms eagerly. Rose handed it over then unlocked the TARDIS door. The Doctor shouldered Notte's yellow duffle bag and ushered them inside quickly.

Notte froze on the ramp and let the others pass her by. She gawked. "How in Hensl's name does this all this fit inside the box?"

"Long story," Rose told her. "But it's perfectly safe, come on."

The Doctor set her bag down near the console and started punching in the coordinates. "Martha, Rose, take Notte down to the water garden. There will be no eggs hatching in my console room."

"Water garden?" Notte gasped. "You mean there's more in here?"

Another loud crack came from the egg, effectively capturing most of Notte's attention. She hardly seemed to notice when they led her down four separate hallways. She was too busy running the tip of her forefinger along the cracks in the shell, tapping on several places, cooing to the tiny life struggling to emerge. A light over one of the doorways flickered and Rose pushed it open, eager to see this new room.

It wasn't very big, she could tell that straight away, but the TARDIS did a good job of making it appear larger. The sky above them was a beautiful light blue and a single sun shone brightly. In the middle was a large pond with a tiered waterfall on the far side, surrounded by large stones, leafy green plants, with pebbles scattered all around. Several lily pads floated on the water and beautiful blossoms sprouted up here and there among the plants.

Notte glanced up curiously then gasped.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Martha grinned.

"It looks like…home," she stated. "I see why your Doctor thought I should wait in here."

"Oh, he's not _my_ Doctor."

Notte set the egg down among a small patch of plants and blossoms then knelt beside it.

"So how does this work?" Martha asked. "Does it just hatch or do we have to do anything to help?"

"No, I think it'll just hatch."

"You _think_?"

"Well, I…I've never actually seen one born," she admitted.

Both women stared at her. "And you just took it?" Rose demanded. "Not knowing a thing on how to birth or take care of it?"

"I know how to take care of them. They love to bathe in cold water but be groomed with a warm brush. They love to eat norka berries, gotos, pall bones—"

"And that's when they're babies?"

Notte frowned. "What do you mean?"

"On Earth, baby animals are fed by their parents. Most times they don't eat the same things as their parents when they're babies."

Another crack appeared and Notte looked concerned. "Is it going to die?"

"No, we won't let it. The TARDIS probably has something onboard the baby can eat. We'll ask her in a few minutes. Oh, look." She pointed to the egg. One of the pieces on the side was slowly being nudged outward.

The three of them sat around the egg and watched the baby Red slowly pushed its way out of the egg. Princess Notte barely spoke to them and neither Rose nor Martha really had anything to talk about. At one point they felt the TARDIS shudder as it landed but the Doctor did not appear to fetch them so they remained where they were. As more and more of the shell was pushed away by a tiny black beak, they began to notice bits of fluffy brown down peeking through. Notte reached forward to help remove the detached pieces that remained clinging to the baby.

Then the beak opened and released a tiny _peep._

When the Doctor entered the garden with the Asokrian ambassador in tow, Rose expected to be witness to a royal row. Indeed the man and was gearing up to give the princess one hell of a scolding, but then he saw the hatching Red and enraptured expression on Notte's face, the words died in his throat.

Baby born, princess and ambassador acquired, and Earth saved. All in all, Rose decided, not a bad day.

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**Getting close to 700 reviews. Did you guys know that the more reviews an author gets, the more productive they tend to be? Most humans have an urge to please, especially when people are counting on them. **

**:3 **


	33. Run Away

**Whoops. Forgot to post this yesterday. My baaaad. ^^; **

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Rose rummaged through her closet to find something to go with the hot pink shirt she'd found in the 1980's section of the wardrobe. She was thinking of asking the Doctor to take them there later once he and Martha got back.

The pair of them had gone to hear a speaker at a convention who supposedly was on his way to developing the cure for cancer. The Doctor had decided this was a good opportunity for him to give the scientist a nudge in the right direction. An effective cure wouldn't be found for another century but there was nothing that said he couldn't help them along or hinder him if he had to. The announcement of the cure for cancer was a fixed event.

But the mere mention of a scientific convention had caused Rose's nose to wrinkle in distaste and she'd told them to go have fun together. If the Doctor were going with any other woman in the universe she would've tagged along to be sure they understood he was off-limits. They were at the point where she felt she had the right to give off those kinds of signals. Martha had been pushing them together ever since she came onboard. She wouldn't have done that if she'd been secretly waiting to put the moves on him herself.

The three of them fit together. It reminded Rose of their days with Jack. They'd made a great team, the three of them. They'd functioned together as a group and also when it was just two of them and the other was somewhere else. She wasn't quite sure what Jack and the Doctor talked about when she wasn't around, just that they'd gotten along once the Doctor had gotten over his unfortunate (or not so unfortunate, depending how you looked at it) case of Captain Envy.

Whenever the Doctor was busy, or they'd stopped on a planet toxic to humans, or was in one of his broods, she and Jack had often sought each other out for entertainment. Those were the times when he'd tell her the stories he knew the Doctor wouldn't approve of, give her honest fashion advice, or teach her things the Doctor had never considered. Like how to defend herself with only her body as a weapon, how to get free of someone's grip, and stuff like that. Another time he taught her how to create an aphrodisiac for beings with binary vascular systems, like the Doctor. He'd followed that lesson up with 'what to expect during sex with telepaths.'

Jack had become like a brother. A brother that…gave her alien sex advice and would bed her in a heartbeat. Okay maybe not a brother. But she had loved him like a brother. And he had loved her like—

Actually, there hadn't been a singular label she could assign to it. Sometimes it seemed fatherly, sometimes it seemed brotherly, and sometimes it was obvious he wanted in her pants (this was when the Doctor would get tetchy and send one of them off somewhere) and if it were anyone else she would have been disturbed.

Rose made a small sound of triumph when she found her favorite denim skirt and pulled it off the hanger.

With Martha, it was like she suddenly had a sister. They came from entirely different backgrounds and in ways they were total opposites, but they got along, they had fun together, and they made a formidable team whenever they wanted to go somewhere the Doctor didn't. And it was nice to have someone her age and, well, species around that she could talk to. She loved the Doctor and he was her best mate but there were some things she'd never talk to him about.

There didn't seem to be anything special like that between Martha and the Doctor. They were simply friends. They loved debating and watching old sitcoms. She could kick his butt in rummy and refused to attempt chess with him. She was able to follow along with some of the science and math that usually left Rose's head spinning. The expressions he made that would normally make Rose give into whatever he was asking would hardly faze Martha most of the time and he'd started working on expressions that would work on her.

Not for the first time she realized that this was her family now. She was okay with that.

Rose was shimmying into a pair of shin-length black leggings when ship shuddered violently. The TARDIS shrieked in pain in her mind and her side stung like something had burned it. She gasped, squeezing her eyes shut until the sting faded, and then she was running. Her bare feet pounded against the floor and she winced when the carpet gave way to cold metal grating.

She heard the Doctor shouting from several hallways away but she couldn't make out what he was saying until she was closer.

"BUT DID THEY SEE YOU!?"

Martha's reply was too quick and quiet for her to understand.

She burst into the console room, colliding with the back of the jump seat in her momentum, and nearly falling flat on her arse. "You went to a convention!" she shrieked at them. "How did you get in this much trouble going to a _bloody convention_?!"

The Doctor ran around the console, ignoring her question, and flipped the lever to send them directly into the vortex. The console emitted a warning beep and he glanced down at the screen. He growled in frustration as he grabbed it. "They're following us!"

"Who's following us?"

"How can they do that?" Martha demanded. "We're in a time machine."

The Doctor scanned the screen then started flipping switches and typing in coordinates. "Stolen technology, they've got a Time Agent's vortex manipulator. They can follow us wherever we go, right across the universe. They're never going to stop." He ran his hand through his hair and looked between is two companions and swallowed.

"Doctor, tell me what's going on." she ordered. "What's after us?"

"These creatures, they're…" he glanced at the screen again, "they're telepathic parasites. When they're in a familial unit of four like the group after us, they're called a 'Family of Blood.' They require a host body to live for an extended period of time; otherwise they'll die. Usually in about twelve weeks."

"So why are they chasing us?"

"They want me. If they absorb a Time Lord they could live forever, wreak havoc across the universe. It happened once a long time ago, before the War. A Family managed to kill a Time Lady and it took an alliance between the Time Lords and Arcadians to defeat them. And since I'm the last Time Lord, if they take me, well..." he made a face. "All powerful beings with access to time travel? I'm sure you can guess."

"So what do we do?" Martha asked.

"Well, now, ah… At this point, we have three options. All involving running away."

"We can't just kill them?"

From the look on the Doctor's face you'd have thought she'd just suggested they help Hitler with the Holocaust.

She rolled her eyes. "Fine, then. What did you have in mind?"

He sniffed once, relaxing. "Well, we can either stay in the vortex for three months or however long it takes. We can try to shake them off. Or—and, really, this would be the safest way, because they don't know what I look like but they know what I smell like and they're great hunters. They can follow my scent anywhere in the universe. But! But if I don't smell like a Time Lord then they can't track me."

"How do you stop smelling like a Time Lord?" Rose asked.

"The most certain way—" he glanced at her nervously "—is to stop being a Time Lord."

Rose blinked in surprise.

"And become human," he finished.

Rose opened her mouth. Shut it. Opened it again. Shut it again. Finally she managed, "I'm sorry…_what_?"

"I can become human."

"Okay. Stop." She held up her hand then pointed at him. "You're a Time Lord. A Time Lord is a special type of Gallifreyan. Right? How can you just _stop_ being a Gallifreyan?"

"By rewriting my biology."

"Oh, if that's all." Martha grumbled.

Rose stared at him. He could become human? And he made it sound so simple. The implications and possibilities raced through her mind. "Have you always been able to do that?"

"Yes. The TARDIS has a feature called the Chameleon Arch that can completely rewrite my DNA changing me from one species to another."

"So…so what was all that about things you could never give or do with me?" she demanded. "The 'watching me wither and die' thing when you could've changed so your lifespan matched mine? And what about your people? Why didn't any of them do it to survive the war?"

"Because it's not that simple." He put his hands on her shoulders. "Don't think for a moment that I haven't considered becoming human for you. Let the universe learn to keep going without me because I don't ever want to have to learn to keep going without you.

"But, Rose, humans are not like Time Lords. A human mind could maybe handle a Gallifreyan mind—a young or underdeveloped one—but not a Time Lord's mind. They'd burn. If I changed to human and kept my mind, I'd die. In order for me to become human, I'd have to change completely, mind and body. I wouldn't remember you, my people, the TARDIS, any of it."

Rose swallowed, nodding. "I see. But you would never do that for me, even if you could."

"If you asked, I would."

She stared at him in surprise. She decided to set aside for later and return to the more pressing issue. "S-so, if you became human to hide from these things, you wouldn't be the Doctor anymore. B-but you change…change back, right?"

"Yes," he assured her. "This I could change back from."

"And you'd look the same?"

"I should. Humans look Time Lord enough so there won't be any big differences, well, aside from the biological stuff, but that's all on the inside."

"So instead of seeing you in a new body, I'd have to see another man in your body."

"I…" He didn't finish but he didn't have to. The expression on his face was enough.

"So how is this any better than when Cassandra possessed you? Or that sun?" Rose shook her head furiously. "No. No! We'll run, we'll hide, but you're stayin' you! I've gone along with a lot of mad or just plain ridiculous plans you've come up with, but this is where I draw the line. I'm not going to watch someone else parading about in your body. I _can't_."

He nodded. "Alright. So we'll run."

The Doctor released her shoulders and turned back to the console and begin flipping and pressing controls rapidly.

"But if they can smell you, how will you be able to hide?" Martha asked.

"I won't leave the TARDIS. They shouldn't be able to track me in here and if I put the TARDIS on emergency power then they won't be able to detect her either. But first I think we should try to shake them off our trail. It will be difficult but if I can scramble the TARDIS's artron signature, temporarily mask the huon, and give us extra shielding…" he ran his hands through his hair furiously, teeth bared.

"Right!" He ducked down and hefted the Extrapolator off the floor, setting it on the console and flipped a switch. It started to hum. "Rose, man the helmic regulator—the one that looks like a bicycle pump. Martha, hold onto the—the—" he gestured furiously "—red and yellow swirly doohickey over there and when I say so, push down."

They scrambled around the console to their assigned places and Doctor brushed passed them, flipping a variety of switches, pulling a few levers, turned the big green ball, and hefted the fire extinguisher off the floor and set it down where he'd be doing the most work.

"Rose, keep that pumping up and down starting now. Martha, in three…two…NOW!"

Martha grunted and pushed the red and yellow knob down along its squiggly track. The TARDIS shuddered wildly and she nearly bashed her nose against the controls. She felt the familiar thump as the TARDIS touched down. The Doctor ordered her to keep the knob down as he flipped the lever for them to dematerialize then told her to push it back up. She did, wondering what the hell this little knob did but knowing better than to ask.

They repeated this process at least ten times. Rose had to switch arms twice and several times her face twisted in discomfort. The Doctor mostly stayed over by his little area of the console, entering new coordinates, flipping the main lever, whacking the extrapolator with the mallet, and growling obscenities in a dozen different languages at the screen.

"Yes!" he hissed. "Martha, one more time. Now!"

She pulled the knob down one final time and they landed, lingering, then he flipped the lever and she pushed the knob back up.

"Good! Well done!" he crowed and stepped away from the console.

Martha huffed in relief and flexed her fingers.

Rose massaged bicep gingerly. "What did we just do?" she asked.

"We just bounced to twelve different planets, in nine different parts of the universe, in twelve different time zones. Including Raxicoricofallapatorious."

"Did it work?"

"We lost them on Clom. Right bit of luck, that." He sniffed proudly. "Two parasite species together should be an interesting mix. And by interesting I mean extremely volatile."

"So now where are we?" Martha asked.

"We're in the vortex around two point five trillion years after the point we exited Clom—a bit drastic but necessary. I need to do a quick diagnostic check on the TARDIS and find out what that just cost us. We might have to make a stop for parts so if you want something to eat you better get it now."

"What about the Family?"

"I've set the TARDIS to give us a proximity alert but, really, assuming they make it out of Clom intact, I think the chances of them finding us again are slim. We should be fine."

"Well that was easy," Rose said. She folded her arms. "Why did you even consider changing yourself?"

"Wasn't sure the old girl could pull it off, to be honest."

The TARDIS's hum deepened, the lights dimmed, and Rose felt offense prickling the back of her mind.

"Er, sorry?" he tried. The lights returned to normal and the TARDIS made a peculiar sound that reminded Rose oddly of a huff.

Martha looked between the Doctor and Rose for a moment. Rose caught her eye and inclined her head towards the door. Martha nodded and silently removed herself from the room. Rose waited until she was out of sight, trusting the TARDIS to give them a few minutes privacy. She straightened out her shirt and slowly followed his path around the console. He didn't even glance at her. She stopped after they'd made a full circuit and sat down in the jump seat.

"Doctor. Did you mean it?"

"Mean what?" he asked.

"You know what I'm talking about." She took a deep breath and exhaled softly. "Would you become human for me?"

The Doctor closed his eyes, swallowed. "I've fought armies and would-be admirers, stopped weddings, thwarted madmen, dethroned kings, broken in and out of prisons for you, and sat through tea with Jackie Tyler on many occasions. I burnt up a sun for you. I died for you, Rose. I would tear apart worlds for you if I had to." He opened his eyes and turned to face her. "But it the idea that I'd become human for you is what surprises you?"

"Yeah. I guess it's…. You're more than a human, Doctor, and you're the last. Why would I ever think you'd give that up for me? I didn't even know it was possible for you to change at all. I suppose it doesn't matter since you wouldn't even be you," she added as an afterthought.

"Let's assume for the moment that I could change my body and keep my mind, then. If you wanted to stop travelling and live a human life with me, I'd do it."

"And when I'm growing old and dying?"

"I'd grow old and die, too."

Rose had difficulty swallowing past the lump in her throat. She heard him step closer. His hands came up to cradle her face and he brushed a bit of hair away from her face with his thumb. "Why?" she asked.

"You don't know?"

"But you're the last. When you die it all dies with you. I can't possibly be worth all that. Why would you give up decades—centuries even—and let the last of your people go for me?"

The Doctor smiled down at her and his hands slipped to her shoulders. "Ask me again sometime." He kissed her forehead then gave her a gentle push towards the door. "Go get shoes on. Love the 80s, look, by the way."

She couldn't help but smile back at him and decided to wait. The way he'd said it made her believe he had a reason for wanting to wait and wasn't trying to just get out of the conversation. Although she wouldn't put the latter past him.

"Will it do?" she asked.

"Yeah, it should."

She returned to her room to find some shoes to go with her retro look and laughed when she saw an unfamiliar pair of pink knee-length converse waiting in front of her bed.

"Seriously?" she asked the TARDIS and received a cheerful hum in reply.

Rose laughed and got a pair of socks from her dresser. As expected, the shoes fit her perfectly and she wondered not for the first time how the TARDIS managed to have a never ending supply of clothes that fit her. She couldn't imagine the Doctor flitting around the universe bringing back girls' clothing. Had a former companion of his brought these shoes onboard and left them behind when she departed? Did the TARDIS randomly snatch items whenever they landed in different times? Did she grow clothes the same way she grew new rooms?

She considered asking the Doctor. Would he tell her? More likely he'd dismiss her question and claim that some things were better enjoyed when they weren't understood.

Of course thinking of the Doctor brought their conversation to the forefront of her mind. She could understand why he'd never mentioned the Chameleon Arch before. Besides the fact that there was no need to, that wasn't the kind of thing you just brought up. "_Yeah, by the way, I've got a machine that can make me the same species as you but it also erases my memory so I wouldn't even know who you were."_ She didn't know how she would've reacted to that.

But there had been a moment there before he'd explained the ramifications where she'd considered what a human life would be like with the Doctor. All the things they could and couldn't have. A house. Ordinary—but not _too _ordinary—jobs. A pet. Children. She had no real desire to be a mother, at least not yet, but he'd been a father once. Would he like to be a father again?

Never mind as a human. What would it be like if they had a child together as they were now? A new baby Gallifreyan that he could pass on his legacy to, perhaps train to be a Time Lord. She didn't know what effect human genetics would have on the baby, but still. The chance for him to have someone else who would understand things she never could.

Of course, before they had a baby they'd actually have to be having sex and _that _particular ship didn't seem to be sailing any time soon.

Rose shook her head. These were not things she should be dwelling on.

She finished tying the laces and stood up, smoothing out her skirt. She walked over to her mirror and gave herself a quick onceover. Hot pink off-shoulder shirt, denim skirt, black leggings, and a pair of pink knee-length converse. Good enough. She slipped her TARDIS key around her neck and put in her favorite hoop earrings. She decided that was good enough and left the room.

She encountered the Doctor halfway back to the console room with a credit chip in his hand.

Rose arched her eyebrow. "So you actually plan on paying this time?"

He grinned sheepishly.

Rose shifted closer to him as they walked and the Doctor slid his arm around her waist like it was the most natural thing in the world. And it was now. She smiled and leaned her head against his shoulder. Martha was waiting for them when they arrived and she smiled at the sight of them. She hopped down from the jump seat and leaned against the console.

The Doctor looked her up and down once. "That what you're wearing?"

She looked down at herself. Nothing unusual for her: leather jacket, jeans, and a black top. "Should I change?" she asked quickly.

"No, you're fine. Just checking. I'm not sure when we're landing. Her universal chronometer is a bit fried so there's no way to tell." He studied the display for a moment then started setting the controls. "But she'll hopefully be able to use her other systems to ensure we land in the right era. If not, we might have to make a few jumps."

The journey was bumpier than normal. Martha and Rose clung to the console while the Doctor tried to pilot them with one of the primary navigational systems offline. When they touched down he told them to stay put and went to check where they'd landed. He looked outside for a moment and Rose saw a flash of green before he shut the door.

"Nope!" he declared and ran back up the ramp.

Two more unsuccessful landings later, the Doctor looked out again and crowed in triumph. Taking that as a sign they were in the right time the two women followed him outside.

The TARDIS had landed on a corner of a city that belonged in a futuristic sci-fi film. The sky was blue and clouds floated lazily overhead. Vehicles whizzed through the air following invisible roads in between tall, iridescent or dark buildings, and in the space below the sky roads, people zipped around on flying bicycles and hover boards. The humming of the vehicles and the buzz of conversation filled the air. The air smelled way too fresh to be a big city and the scent of warm cinnamon tickled Rose's nose and made her mouth water and she spotted a bakery across the street with its doors open.

The crowds passing them were a mix of humans, aliens, and some that looked like half-breeds. They were dressed in a myriad of different styles, a result of the blend of cultures on Earth now. There didn't seem to be any distinct pattern on who wore what, just that no one was really mixing colors. Oh, the three of them would stick out like sore thumbs, Rose realized glumly. That meant lots of staring.

"Arthapolis," the Doctor introduced with a flourish. "Come on, hurry up. Best not to linger too long."

"Why?" Martha asked as they followed him away from the TARDIS. Sure enough, the moment they stepped out of the reach of the TARDIS's perception filter people began to notice them. Heads turned, eyebrows shot towards hairlines, and fingers were pointed. She saw a blue-skinned girl hold up something that resembled a camera and a tiny red light on the front blipped once.

"Arthapolis is a hotspot for time travellers, particularly Time Agents. And not just Jack's Agency," he added before Rose could ask. "There will be similar foundations throughout history founded by aliens and humans alike. Arthapolis is where a lot of them come if they want to experience the Second Golden Age of Earth. That's the 230th through the 233rd centuries, by the way, so we're somewhere in there."

Suddenly the inquisitive looks they were getting took on a whole new light. "They know we're time travelers."

"Oh, yes."

Martha smiled at someone then leaned closer to the Doctor. "Can we talk to them?" she muttered.

"I don't see why not. I expect someone will stop you and ask for your name, planet and city of origin, and year of birth. If you're from the past they can search the databanks and learn about you. If you turned out to be famous or important and they can add you to do the database as a known time traveler." At her surprised look, he laughed once. "This is their culture, Martha. They were raised to expect visitors from other times. They might question you about your time and what time travelling is like but they won't ask to come along because it's rude. It'd be like you approaching a celebrity for their autograph, maybe asking them a few questions. But you wouldn't very well ask if you could follow them home."

"Makes sense."

"So what are we looking for?" Rose asked.

"A Traveller's Depot. They've got lots of useful things. Clothing from different eras, parts, language helpers—everything your visiting time traveller might need. There are three of them in the city, hidden underneath three completely unrelated businesses. Very low key, very high security. Can't have just anyone gaining access to all that technology. They only sell to with people who have traces of atron energy in them in case one of the citizens finds the Depot."

"But how do we find them if they're hidden?"

"You can't," he said. "Only time-sensitive beings can track them down or those equipped with time-sensitive technology. Jack's vortex manipulator, for example, could lead him to a Depot. Any other time travellers who come through here, if they need a depot, use their own technology. I, on the other hand, can find them on my own. No need, though. I've been here before and I know where one is. We're close. Just a few blocks over."

When he said the Depot was hidden, he meant hidden. The building they walked into was not a Depot of any sort. It was a coffee shop.

"Twenty thousand years and they still have coffee shops." Martha remarked.

"Well, they don't sell coffee, but other than that, yeah."

The Doctor approached the counter and smiled pleasantly at the middle-aged woman with cinnamon skin and pink hair working it. "Hello."

She looked him up and down once then over his shoulder at Rose and Martha. "Welcome. What can I get you?"

"Can we use your restroom?"

She nodded and pointed at the back corner of the shop. "Third door on your left."

"Thank you very much." He motioned for his companions to follow him. They walked down the hallway she'd indicated, pausing to let a startled patron pass. He looked around carefully to make sure no one was watching and then he placed his hand on a scanner on the door.

The scanner chirped softly and the door hissed quietly before sliding open, revealing a single staircase. He ushered them in quickly and the door slid shut behind them, hissing again as it sealed shut. They headed down the stairs to another blank door with a scanner identical to the one above. The Doctor placed his hand on it once more. A few chirps and hisses later they were standing in a large underground warehouse. Five rows of shelves and containers stretched out before them for the span of a city block containing everything from currency, to clothes, to various bits of technology and parts.

A cheerful melody of electric humming, whistling, and clicking filled the air accompanied by wordless background music.

"Are we alone?" Rose whispered.

"Not likely," the Doctor whispered back then raised his voice. "HELLO!"

His bellow echoed through the Depot, rebounding off of every surface and magnifying until it reached ever corner of the room.

"That should do," he decided.

"Sorrit's sake, son!" a deep called. A man emerged from the fourth isle, similar to the woman from upstairs, with cinnamon skin that wasn't quite human and pink hair. He wore a deep green tunic, shorts, and what looked like a pair of 21st century yellow flip-flops. "There's no need for shouting. I heard you come in. The name's Cantor. I'm gonna need your names, your years, and planets of origin."

"Years?" Martha asked.

"What year do you come from?"

"We're from the early 2000s, Earth. I'm Martha."

"Rose." She gave a little wave.

Cantor raised his eyebrows. "Early 2000s—the Emergence Era? I wasn't aware you had time travel technology."

"They don't. They travel with me." the Doctor stuffed his hands in his pocket. He seemed to be waiting for something. Cantor squinted at him.

"That you, Doctor?"

The Doctor beamed. "I was wondering how long it'd take you this time. You got older."

"You got younger," he snorted. "That's really not fair. What number are you on?"

"This is my tenth."

Cantor frowned and Rose was surprised by how much the man seemed to know about Time Lords. But, then again, this was a hub for time travellers. "I hope that means it's been centuries for you, Doctor."

"Not…exactly…"

"You're burning through them fast."

"Yes, well, you'll be happy to know that I have no plans to regenerate again for a while. I have it on good authority that this is a very nice body."

Martha snorted quietly.

Cantor glanced at her. "So, what happened to the girl you were travelling with last time? A—um, wait, don't tell me. Acer."

"Ace," the Doctor corrected. "She's back home in her time. Runs a charity now."

_Ace_, Rose thought and filed the name away for later like she always did on the rare occasions she was able to garner information about the Doctor's life before her, before the War. _Sarah Jane. Ian and Barbara. Peri. Jamie. Dodo. Adric. The Brigadier. _

"I was close. Good for her. So, I'm assuming you're here for parts again?"

"Correct. We had to make a quick escape and a few things got fried."

"Well, hopefully I've got what you need."

"Wait a minute." Martha interrupted. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but it seems that you've got a place you can visit any old time you need TARDIS parts. So how come you landed on that planet a few weeks ago and got yourself arrested for stealing?"

Cantor barked a laugh.

"Because the parts I needed then weren't the kind that turn up here. Besides, I knew it was likely I'd have to steal or use psychic paper, and Cantor's an old friend. I'm not going to try and knick stuff."

"Glad to hear." Cantor paused, licked his lips once, and lowered his voice. "Doctor, I'm glad you turned up. There's something… I—I've been listening to stories, you know, like I always do. Travellers come through and some talk about a war. A war throughout time itself. This one young woman said…she said that Gallifrey…"

The Doctor's expression was dangerously flat. He said nothing. Rose lightly stroked the back of the Doctor's hand with her fingers.

Cantor's eyes flicked between them with interest, noting the way they stood, and the way he relaxed at her touch. He did his best not to smile. Who would've thought? Certainly not him, for sure. The older than dirt Time Lord had managed to fall for a young human girl. Now that was a story he wanted to hear sometime.

"They're gone," he said. "Gallifrey, the Time Lords, the Daleks, and thousands of other species and worlds. All gone."

"But you're still here."

"I'm the very last. I was the one that ended it all."

"_Sorrit_," the man whispered, horrified.

The four of them were silent for a moment as they each processed the information and tried to comprehend the magnitude of something incomprehensible and the Doctor let them. Then he swallowed, sniffed once, and the cheerful mask was back in place. "So. Parts?"

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**BRING ON THE REVIEWS. I'm gonna enjoy this. Oh yeah. (less than 30 away from 700 :D) **


	34. Cardiff

**Me and Kry are laughing our asses off at all of you. We are. **

**Btw, I don't know if I mentioned it here, but _I got fanart a few weeks ago._** **You should have heard me squealing about it. I ran to get my mother so fast that I damn near ran into the pantry door. BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT I DO WHEN I GET FANART. If anyone wants to see it, let me know and I'll go reblog it again on tumblr ^-^ **

****Also, if anyone doesn't know, Tosh and Owen are members of Torchwood III**

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After leaving the Depot, it took the rest of the day and most of the night for the Doctor to repair the TARDIS. He only stopped working twice: once when Martha brought him a tray of food and ordered him to eat and again when he went to curl up with Rose as she fell asleep. He loathed breaking their nightly routine even with urgent maintenance to be done. It helped him relax after a stressful day and she fell asleep quicker. Plus he loved the feel of her warm body snuggled against his. When the repairs were done he decided a refuel was in order. That meant they were headed to Cardiff.

"I don't understand, why Cardiff?" Martha asked.

"It's got a rift underneath it." The Doctor explained as he flipped the controls to open up the engines. "And not just any rift—a rift in time and space. Just like California and the San Andreas Fault."

"But how do you know about it?"

"It's a long story." Rose said. "But we were here in 1869. These creatures called the Gelth were using it to try and take over the world but this girl, Gwenyth, saved the world and closed it. That was my first trip to the past," she added with a small smile. "Met Charles Dickens."

The Doctor flipped one final switch the leaned on the console. "But, like with a deep wound, rifts never will completely vanish There're always scars left over that can be reopened, by force or by accident. When opened, the rift _bleeds _energy. Every now and then I need to open up the engines, soak up the energy, and use it as fuel."

Rose tilted her head back and inhaled slowly. It was one of those rare moments without any outside stress that she could feel along with the TARDIS. The ship absorbed the yummy rift energy and power raced through her weary systems; Rose's blood tingled. She hadn't realized she'd been feeling tired until now. There had been an uncomfortable itchy feeling before when some of the key systems were down, witch she also hadn't really noticed until it was gone, but no exhaustion. Now she felt more alert than she had since they first ran away from the Family.

She wanted out. She wanted to run. She wanted to run far and fast and feel the wind on her face and laugh and whoop and not stop until she had to.

The TARDIS hummed happily in her mind, encouraging her.

"So it's a pit stop." Martha realized.

"Exactly."

"Wait a minute. They had an earthquake in Cardiff a couple years ago. Was that you two?"

"Bit of trouble with the Slitheen. We sorted it."

"Of course you did," she said. "So how long are we here for?"

"Oh, maybe an hour or two should do." he replied after a moment. "It's midday outside. Should we get something to eat?"

"Sounds good to me. Rose? …Rose?"

Rose stared blankly into space. Concerned, Martha leaned over and snapped her fingers in front of her eyes. Rose blinked rapidly and her eyes crossed, focusing on the fingers in the center of her vision. "Sorry, what?"

"We're gonna go get dinner while the TARDIS charges. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. I'm just…" she stopped, unable to find the right word to explain what she was feeling. "Awake. I didn't even realize we were tired."

"We?" the Doctor asked sharply.

"Me and the TARDIS. I didn't even realize before."

"Explains why you were laying around so much," Martha said.

"I was not."

"That is so weird, though. She was drained so you felt tired. Now she's getting all juiced up and you feel awake. How is that even possible? It's just a ship."

"But the TARDIS is alive, remember that." the Doctor said. "And once upon a time…" he looked at Rose then patted the console, right on the place where it lifted to reveal the Heart. "Rose held her heart."

"Hang on." Martha held up her hand. "You've never properly explained this to me, and if you really don't want to that's fine, but I really want to know. You told me there was a Dalek army about to destroy the Earth and to save you and everyone, Rose absorbed the Heart of the TARDIS."

"Correct."

"What is the Heart?"

The Doctor breathed in deeply through his nose and then exhaled slowly. "That…is not an easy question to answer. Not in English, at any rate."

"Try."

"Alright. Rose absorbed the Heart of the TARDIS." he looked between them. "I was speaking Vicran just now. Their species understood time in a way few others ever could or will, Time Lords notwithstanding. Their language has words similar enough to the Gallifreyan meanings that could get my point across. But you don't speak Vicran so the TARDIS automatically translated it into your native tongues using the words that best match the intended Vicran meanings."

"So even if you explain it an adequate language, it'll still be like you're talking in English." Martha deduced.

"Yes. And if I explained it to you in Gallifreyan, the TARDIS wouldn't even translate."

"Then explain it as best you can in English," Rose said. "I want to know."

The Doctor sighed and ran his hand over his mouth. He thought about it for a long minute before speaking. "When I say 'the Heart of the TARDIS' I am referring to either one specific half of the Heart or its entirety. There is the physical Heart—her core. Her engine. That's all parts, metal, organic matter. It's a physical place we could go to, we can see it, touch it, or repair it if needed. It's the first part of her to fully form underneath her shell. Removing it would kill her. "

The TARDIS rumbled around them, sounding eerily similar to a growl. The Doctor flinched. This wasn't a topic she liked. Not that anyone onboard right now would hurt her, but it was never comfortable for any living thing to hear someone talk about how to kill it.

"And the other part," he went on, "is her soul. Her power, her consciousness: everything that makes her alive. And it's all right under here." He patted the console. "And the Heart also refers to her entire core system—the incorporeal and the corporeal. Gallifreyan has words to describe them individually and together. But when I say Rose absorbed the Heart of the TARDIS, I'm referring to the part that is the TARDIS's soul. It contains her power—the time vortex—as well as her consciousness."

He paused, letting it all sink in. A small tremble passed through Rose and she crossed her arms over her chest. "Why didn't you tell me this before?"

He looked surprised. "I thought I did."

"Never like this." She licked her lips. "But how does that explain why I can feel her this way?"

"Because when you absorbed her Heart, you two became one. Two minds and souls in the same body. You formed a bond during that time that I…I don't understand it. I share a deep bond with the TARDIS but this is different. I barely understand it and can't even begin to draw comparisons."

"But you held the Heart too," Rose reminded him. "You took it out of me."

"You held it for minutes, became the Bad Wolf, and did so much. I held onto it for seconds and all I did was heal the damage to your body. Plus, you were an ordinary human, completely unused to being exposed to the power of time. I was neither. The difference between our situations is…" He trailed off and pursed his lips.

Then he cleared his throat loudly, jumping away from the console. "So, there's a nice restaurant not too far from here. I think you both…" he paused as he rifled through his pockets, "…should probably change. Well, I thought I might've had a few pounds on me. Either of you got some money or should we stop by a cash point?"

"Cash point," Martha said. She'd come a long way from being horrified at his methods of acquiring cash. "You go get the money, we'll get changed and meet your outside."

The Doctor bounded down the ramp and opened the door. He stepped out and breathed in deeply, then called over his shoulder, "By the way, it feels like summer out here and I can't smell any rain."

"Thank you!"

Martha and Rose went into the wardrobe to find something decent to wear. The TARDIS helped as she usually did, guiding them with flickering lights to the third floor and myriad of warm weather clothes. Some of them were clearly not meant for early 21st century Earth and others were not right for an afternoon in Cardiff. Knowing full well the Doctor would come hassle them if they took too long they each made their selections quickly. Martha chose a shin-length white button up dress with a lapel collar and a gray band around the waist. Rose's dress was watermelon pink with spaghetti straps, a layered bottom, and lace trim.

Once they found appropriate shoes they headed outside. The Doctor had yet to return from the cashpoint so they waited by the TARDIS. Rose fiddled with her necklace absentmindedly as she watched the people pass them on the Roald Dahl Plass. The ship hummed happily behind her and the wood felt warmer than normal against the skin of her back.

"Do you think I'll ever find someone like that?" Martha asked.

"What?"

"Someone I'd be willing to die to save?"

"Yes," Rose replied without hesitating. "He's out there. You just have to find him."

Martha hummed once in agreement. She cast her eyes along the Plass again to look for the Doctor and she noticed a young woman across the way sitting at one of the tables. She was Asian though it was difficult to tell much else about her appearance from a distance. She was dressed for look the outfit looked like one she could run in if need be. And she was staring straight at them, which shouldn't have been possible. Leaning against the TARDIS as they were they should've been protected by the perception filter.

"Rose," she muttered, trying to keep her lips still. "One o'clock. Asian woman on her mobile, I think she can see us."

Rose turned to look but the woman in question had shifted and was rubbing her eyes. When she lowered her hand she fixed her eyes on a point in the distance nowhere near the TARDIS. She must've been just staring into space. They relaxed.

A few minutes later the Doctor came jogging down the Plass and the met him halfway. "Ready to go?" he asked when they were close. "I went to check if there were any open seats and I think the lunch crowd is almost gone."

Rose smiled. "Great."

He cleared his throat loudly and placed his arms behind his back. "Miss Tyler, Miss Jones, would you care to accompany me to lunch?"

The two women glanced at each other. "I think we will, Mister Smith," Martha replied.

She grinned and so did he and Rose slid her arm around his. Martha nudged him playfully before the three of them set off to the restaurant.

The Asian woman watched them go with her phone still pressed to ear. They were so happy, the time travelling trio. They had no idea what was coming. No idea what was about to happen to them. Because if she remembered the story correctly then this was _the_ stop in Cardiff they'd made just before it happened. They were off to lunch now. They'd order chicken, lasagna, and fish. The Doctor would discover he hated smoked salmon and he'd spit it onto his plate and nearly get them kicked out.

"_Tosh? You there?"_

Toshiko shook her head quickly. "Yes, I'm here."

"_So was it them?"_

"Yes. They just left with a tall man wearing a brown suit."

"_Sounds about right."_ there was a pause. _ "But how did they look?"_

"I told you they're wearing a dress."

"_No, I meant how did they look at him?"_

"Well, Rose…I think she smiled. I was too far to see much but even the other woman, Martha, was happy to be near him."

"_Then it's the Doctor alright. Stay there, wait for them to come back, but don't approach them. I'll call Suzie and Owen and let them know, too."_

"Jack, I…" Tosh felt tears welling in her eyes. "They were so happy. Can't I—can't I warn them?"

"_No_," Jack growled. _ "Don't talk to them, don't go near them, don't even make eye contact with them again. It _has_ to happen. You stop it and you could cause a paradox big enough to blow a hole in the universe. Do you understand?"_

"I understand. But, Jack, something's been bothering me. Did she say where it happened? Are they coming here?"

"_I don't know. …I'll call everyone in, just in case. You stay there until I call you. Let me know immediately if they leave."_ He hung up.

Tosh closed her phone and pressed it against her lips. A tear trickled down her cheek as she thought of the smiles, the laughter, the way he'd held Rose close but hadn't completely shut out Martha. She shook her head quickly and set her phone on the table, pulling her laptop out of her bag. A meal and light shopping would probably take well over an hour. Might as well get a bit of work done while she waited. Apparently that blue box fed off of rift energy. It would be interesting to see how that affected things.

Sometime later, Tosh was knee deep in scan results, trying to create a short a three-dimensional model depicting how the ship absorbed energy. She was able to track the movement of energy just fine but when she tried to scan the blue box to figure out where inside the energy went to, her scanner would work for a few seconds and then simply…stop. It was as if there was nothing in there to scan. Completely impossible, of course, because she knew there was an entire world inside those walls.

Maybe one day she could see it for herself.

"Jack have you monitoring them?"

Tosh jumped in her seat. She looked up at Owen who grinned. Her heart fluttered in her chest. _No, don't_, she told herself. _Not a good idea. He's only just stopped fooling around with Suzie. _

"Owen," she greeted with a smile and looked away quickly. "No, he hasn't got me monitoring them, just their ship."

Owen cast his eyes out across the Plass. "Where is it?"

"On top of our elevator. Took me a minute to see it. Stop—you're looking right at it."

Owen squinted, his nose twitching in agitation, and then his mouth puckered. "Well," he laughed once to himself. "Fuck me, there it is. The blue police box."

He pulled the chair out from the table and sat down next to her, folding his hands on the table. He glanced at her computer screen and tapped it. "What's this?"

"I'm working on a 3D model that shows how the ship absorbs the energy into its systems. Trouble is, I can't get a reading on the interior on my scanner. It's like there's nothing there."

"Well," he said slowly. "Didn't Jack say it was dimensionally transcendental?"

Tosh's eyes widened and possibilities raced through her mind. "So, there really isn't anything inside, not in the way my scanner is set to recognize." she realized. "That door is a gateway to another dimension. That's…remarkable. Can you imagine what we could do with that kind of technology?"

"Rob banks, steal things, conceal weapons…"

She sighed and fiddling with her scanner to detect the other dimension. "Well, if you're going to be a pessimist."

"I'm not being a pessimist, Tosh, I'm just saying, that's not the kind of technology we want people possibly getting their hands on." He frowned, staring at it. "I wonder if we could get inside it."

Tosh looked up in alarm. "Don't you even dare!"

"I won't go in, I just want to see." Owen pushed his chair back and stood up but Tosh grabbed his wrist.

"They could be back any time now. Jack said we couldn't interfere or we might cause a paradox."

Owen sighed and sat back down. "Fine."

Confident that Owen wouldn't risk it, Tosh went back to adjusting her scanner. Just a few tweaks and it should work. If she couldn't get an image of the interior nearest to the door then she could at least get a basic idea.

"Did you want to interfere?" Owen asked. "With them."

Tosh's fingers froze. She looked up and sighed before setting her scanner down. "Yes, of course. It's been months, Owen, and this is the first time we've seen the TARDIS, Canary Wharf aside. Don't you realize what day it is for them?"

He scoffed, "No. Unlike you, Tosh, I have better things to do than listen to mad stories about time and space travel."

"Owen, this is the day that what they're running from catches up with them."

"Oh, yeah. Jack said something might go down today. Is that what this is all about?"

She nodded.

"Terrific. Once again the Doctor and Rose cause us a shitload of trouble."

"Owen!" she exclaimed. "What happened to Torchwood One was not their fault. They did that to themselves."

"Yeah, but they were there." he growled. "You saw the CCTV feeds. They walked right past people calling for help. People _dying_. And what did they do? Absolutely nothing. Think about it, Tosh. Think about all those people we dug out, all those names we added to the list of the dead. How many of them might've lived if the wonderful heroes had helped instead of wal—"

BOOM!

The world around them shook violently. Owen fell over sideways and Tosh just barely saved her laptop from falling to its death before they both hit the ground. Owen lifted his head, swearing like a field. Tosh stuffed her laptop into her bag before she clambered to her feet. Owen grabbed her arm to steady her and the two of them looked at each other in horror then looked in the direction the explosion had come from. A huge back column of smoke rose the air and all around them were the sounds of terror.

"Shit," he breathed.

Tosh gulped. "It's started."

"Really? Thanks Tosh, I had no idea."

* * *

**Leave reviews, get replies. Y'know the drill. And here's the chapterly reminder that it's pointless to ask me questions when you're a guest reviewer since I can't reply.**


	35. Found and Lost

**Some of you might've already seen the new DW 50th trailer that's circulating. It's gorgeous... but it's also fanmade. Just so you know.**

**A FEW THINGS. PLEASE READ:**

***To the nonny who said: "One problem! Susie's dead but I don't care!"  
****Uh, no. At that point, Susie was not dead. The Doctor says this is "late summer" and if you paid attention, you'd have noticed Jack didn't say Gwen's name anywhere in there. This takes place before the beginning of the Torchwood TV series. **

****Friendly reminder to everyone: I don't accept collab requests. This decision is indefinite. **

*****I had to yell at a user the other day about this (you know who you are and you're lucky I'm not saying your username) and I felt like I needed to make sure everyone is aware of this. Don't** **_ever_ contact another user doing a season 3 rewrite and tell them to just stop because WSITW is better. Telling that to another user, no matter what your intentions may have been, is _mean _and completely out of line_._ I do _not_ want to get into an altercation over something like this and if I ever find out it happened, I will be having words with the person responsible because. You may love WSITW, you may think it's better than all the others, but don't ever tell other writers to just stop because you don't think they're good enough. That just makes you a bully.**

**THE. END.**_  
_

**Now please enjoy the chapter ^_^ **

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Something pinged the back of her mind. It hadn't come from the TARDIS, not exactly. It was more of a reaction to something the TARDIS had sensed. Like the nausea from the Carrionite's magic or the tingling when a telepathic being other than the Doctor tried to communicate with the TARDIS.

Rose stopped walking, cocking her head to the side curiously. While reacting with the TARDIS was nothing new, that pinging thing was. It wasn't pain, it didn't carry any sense of urgency, and a quick look around didn't reveal anything out of the ordinary. As if that ever helped her figure out what these things mean. She shook her head. She was about to call the Docotr away from that shop window when she felt it.

The TARDIS was afraid. Oh so very, _**afraid**_. It triggered an adrenaline rush like she'd never felt before. She gasped loudly and the bag she held slipped from her fingers. Dimly, she was aware of Martha standing right in front of Rose, demanding to know what was wrong. Then the Doctor was there and he was asking, too.

But the TARDIS was showing her a series of images. A glowing green ship streaking through the sky, an overhead view of Cardiff, her face, the Doctor's, and Martha's; then Martha and the Doctor racing in to the TARDIS and a laser firing over their heads. _"Get down!" the Doctor shouted_ and _"These creatures, they're…they're telepathic parasites. When they're in a familial unit of four like the group after us, they're called a 'Family of Blood.'" _

They'd found them.

She blinked, looking at her love and her friend, and she was so afraid, and _they found us_, and they were open out here and exposed, and they could come at any minute. So she did the only thing that made sense. She grabbed their hands and ran.

They didn't get far before something exploded.

The Doctor had known seconds before the shop exploded what would happen. Maybe the TARDIS had warned him as well. Because when the shop exploded she was pressed the wall with Martha and the Doctor's body was curled around them protectively. When the shaking stopped the Doctor lifted his head and shook the broken glass from his hair. The shop they had been in not two minutes ago had been reduced to a smoking heap of rubble. The air stank with the stench of smoke, the stench of burning flesh, and something like ozone—the sure sign of a laser blast.

"What's happening?" Martha cried.

"It's them," Rose gasped, finally finding her voice. "The Family."

"But we lost them!"

"I guess not," the Doctor growled. "Our escape attempt was a long shot to begin with. They must have locked onto the TARDIS itself." He stepped away from the wall and grabbed their hands. "Come on!"

They ran for their lives through the crowds of screaming and panicking humans. The Doctor kept his hands locked around theirs so they wouldn't be separated even as people shoved past them. Sirens wailed in the distance and police officers raced towards the destruction.

Rose's heart thrummed in her chest and the TARDIS sang in her head. An image of the building they'd just run past exploding flared in her mind. Five seconds later it actually happened. Everyone in the vicinity went flying from the force of the explosion. Rose screamed as her hand slipped from the Doctor's.

Pain exploded in her side as she collided with the ground. She rolled a few times, finally stopping on her back. She gasped for air, her ears full of nothing but ringing for a few seconds before the garbled screams filtered in. Above her the sun shined bright and happy. She lay there, gasping in pain and surprise, until she registered the Doctor shouting at her. His face appeared above her, twisted in fear, and he pulled her to her feet.

He pulled her forward and she caught a glimpse of Martha's dark skin on his other side.

Another building exploded behind them and they were knocked to their knees. Rose whimpered in pain but the Doctor didn't even give her a chance to gather her wits before he was hauling her up. He pulled Martha up next and Rose winced when she saw the wet redness seeping through her friend's white dress. The Doctor looked them up and down once then started pulling them along.

Finding her voice, Rose shouted, "We have to help!"

"We can't!"

"People are dying!"

"I know!"

Rose gritted her teeth, slammed on the brakes, and jerked her hand free of the Doctor's. He whirled around, letting go of Martha, and marched towards her. "Come on!" he snapped.

She folded her arms. "NO! People are _dying_, Doctor! We can't just leave!"

"Yes we can and we are." When she didn't move, he seized her by her upper arms. "Don't you understand, Rose? They're after _us_! If you want to help them then we need to get into the vortex. They should follow us."

"And if they don't?"

"Rose, we can't face them outright. If we stay and hide they'll possess people and sniff us out and they'll kill everyone they have to until they do! We have to go!"

She reached up and grabbed his hand. "Okay."

The Doctor nodded, held his other hand out to Martha, and the three of them started running again. Another explosion knocked them down but this time Rose pushed herself up immediately and bolted. Her body's natural adrenaline combined with the energy buzz from the TARDIS made her feel like she was flying. She didn't realize she'd let go of the Doctor's hand until they reached the Plass and then immediately locked her fingers around his.

Another explosion rang out behind them as Rose shoved her key into the lock. The moment the door was open he thrust them both inside. He raced past them and immediately started to stop the absorbing process. He had the TARDIS release a burst of artron energy to gain the Family's attention before throwing the switch to send them into the vortex. A moment later the screen registered the ship entering the vortex behind them and he smiled darkly.

"They're following us," he reported. He glanced up at them briefly before looking back at the screen. Then what he'd seen registered and his head snapped up.

Their dresses were ragged and their skins were covered in abrasions and lacerations. Martha's dress had blood on it and he wasn't sure all of it was hers. There was also a cut above her eye that was bleeding profusely that she didn't seem to notice. Rose had an ugly bruise forming on her arm and her eyes were fading back to their normal brown. Plus on top of all that they were covered there was dust and debris from head to toe.

His fingers tightened on the console and he looked down. He needed to keep ahead of them while he took care of his companions. If they were going to try and shake the Family off again then he needed their help. The Old Girl had several autopilot modes, some activated automatically during different types of emergencies, others he had to manually activate. He racked his brain for one that would be useful at the moment.

Oh. There was one. He'd designed it two bodies ago in the early stages of the Time War. Since some of their foes were able to chase them through the vortex he'd come up with a setting that told the TARDIS to flee within the vortex in any direction she needed to avoid being compromised in the event he was unable to pilot himself. As an extra precaution, he'd programmed it to activate automatically if he lost consciousness while on the run. He'd never had a reason to use it during the War and afterwards removing autopilot modes wasn't high on his list of priorities.

Now if he could just remember the entry code for it.

"You two go to the infirmary, I'll be right there. Martha, you need to apply compression to that cut above your eye."

Martha reached up and fingered the cut. She pulled her hand away and stared at the blood on her fingertips. "Oh."

She swayed slightly.

The Doctor dug around in his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, handing it to Rose. "She's losing a lot of blood. Hold that on firmly. We don't want her passing out."

Rose did as he ordered and wrapped her other arm around Martha's shoulders. "Come on, Dr. Jones."

He watched them go. When they were out of sight he turned back to the console. "Think, think, think," he muttered, hitting his head furiously. It would've been something simple. Something he could easily remember but few others would guess.

"Oh," he murmured. Jumping over to the keyboard, he typed in three letters. In Gallifreyan that particular combination of letters was a suffix commonly used to describe actions that occurred one's fifth regeneration.

_R-U-N_

The TARDIS hummed around him and the ship trembled as she prepared to follow never before used programming. He pulled the screen around and both watched and felt the ship accelerate. Millions of years forward, then billions back, a hundred forward, two million back. She raced through the vortex like a fish through the sea, completely in her element. The Family were still tracking her, there was no way to prevent it, but there was no chance they'd catch her.

"That's it, Old Girl!" he shouted. "Keep it up for as long as you can!"

When he got to the infirmary, Martha was sitting on the examination table while Rose tended to her wounds. She'd already cleaned the cut on her forehead and was working on the bad scrapes on her knees. She didn't seem to notice or even care about the state she herself was in. He shucked his coat, tossing it over a chair, and joined her by the table. He picked up a cotton ball, dipping it in the disinfectant, and started to deal with the abrasions on her arm.

"Did we get away?" Martha croaked as he brushed the cotton across the cut on her hand.

"Not exactly," he said. "Right now the TARDIS is leading them around in circles."

"Are we going to do the jumping thing again?"

"That's the plan, yes. But I can't do it alone." He set it down then went to get the dermal regenerator and set it to 'human.'

Rose, meanwhile, was in deep thought. She knew her silence hadn't escaped the Doctor's notice but she couldn't bring herself to care. She moved mechanically, hopping onto the table and cleaning her own wounds as the Doctor helped Martha with the regenerator. The medicine stung and she knew she deserved the pain.

All those people. How many were injured or killed in the explosions? They'd been shopping in the first building mere minutes before it had exploded. And it had been crowded, too, with men, women, and children alike. There'd been a man buying a present for his daughter. One of the women had been pregnant. There were three children that had been laughing loudly and admiring the sparkly jewelry. They all would've still been in there when it went up. And how many people had been in the other shops? Or just outside of them but caught in the explosions anyway?

The sting of the medicine suddenly become unbearably potent, the smell of the drying blood too strong, and the lights too bright. Her stomach did backflips and the cotton fell from her fingers. She didn't realize she was running until she was already out of the room. The Doctor might've called after her. She might have cared.

She ran without direction, letting the TARDIS rearrange itself around her into an endless maze until her already sore muscles were screaming, her wounds stung, and her chest heaved. Then the first door she opened lead to her room. Her dress was ripped and dirty and stained with drying blood, some of it hers, some of it Martha's. She yanked it up and over her head, tossed it to the side, and then collapsed on her bed. Pulling her legs up to her chest, she pressed her face into her knees and cried.

That was how the Doctor found her a few minutes later. He wrapped her pink blanket around her shoulders and held her. He whispered comfortingly into her ear while his hands stroked her arms and back. Her sobbing increased in volume before she gradually allowed his gestures to soothe her and her body stopped shuddering.

Cardiff had proved they couldn't run from the Family. When the Doctor said they could follow them right across the universe she hadn't realized it meant they _would_. Some people would do anything to gain eternity, whether it meant making a bunch of Horcruxes or chasing a Time Lord through time. And they wouldn't ever stop until they had him or they were dead. Nowhere they landed would be safe until then. There was nothing to prevent another massacre.

And he'd warned her, dammit, but she hadn't cared. Stupid, selfish her. Her desires were not more important than the world. She'd forgotten and all those people had died for it.

"Doctor?" she mumbled.

"Yes?"

"How did they track us today?"

"I'm not entirely sure, but my theory is they emerged near the TARDIS's location then tracked my location through my scent. Actually…I wouldn't be surprised if they have both your scents now, too."

"And could you disguise our scents?"

"Yours, yes," he said. "It'd be very simple if you were among humans."

"But not yours?"

He shook his head. "No. Not indefinitely. There is something I can do to make myself smell human; it's bit like ventriloquism but with the nose and not the mouth. But that would only work for a few minutes at best. For you two I can rig something that will cause your natural scent to be distorted by those around you. The same way you could blend in with a crowd of blondes."

"Why wouldn't that work for you?" she asked.

"Because I don't smell human, Rose. If I was hiding among my people then, yes, it would work. Although," he added, wrinkling his nose, "considering they're after me because I'm a Time Lord, I don't think hiding in a group of Time Lords would be very helpful even if I could."

She swallowed. "But that Chameleon Arch. If it made you human, would they be able to track your location even if they landed?"

"No."

Rose closed her eyes and exhaled shakily before twisting in his grip and pulling his face down to hers. He was surprised at first but then he was kissing her sweetly and stroking her cheek with one hand, giving silent reassurances that he was there, that it was going to be okay, that they could get through this without that silly machine, but that wasn't what she wanted. She didn't want a gentle lie. They'd allowed themselves to believe they were safe, forgetting the ferocity of the drive to survive, and now it was blowing up in their faces. Things weren't going to be okay and she was going to lose him.

So she pressed against him, sliding her hands into his hair, and tugged gently. He responded with a low sound in his throat and she decided she wanted to hear it again. When she nipped at his lip he seemed to understand what she wanted. His hand slipped lower, pulling her closer, and he deepened the kiss.

When she had to stop for breath he kept right on, peppering her face with kisses then continuing down her throat. She shivered, scraping her fingers across his scalp, and he made that sound again. She filed that away for later.

His lips returned to her mouth and the hand that had previously been on her back came up to cup her cheek. Without anything to hold it in place, the blanket fell from her shoulders. Startled by the sudden chill, she arched into him but he didn't seem to notice, drawing her lower lip into his mouth. But then one of his hands slipped down to her waist again and he realized what happened and he pulled away.

Their foreheads pressed together as they both struggled to catch their breath. He reached behind her and pulled the blanket around her again. She almost shouldered him off. Considering she was about to go for an indefinite amount of time without him, she didn't give a damn about her modesty. In her opinion they were both wearing too many layers. But his eyes never left hers as he tucked the blanket around her and something in them pleaded with her not to push. That now wasn't the time for more.

Well, now seemed like the perfect time, thank you very much. But she didn't know how long the TARDIS could run from the Family and still have enough in her to work the Chameleon Arch. There hadn't been enough time to completely refuel, after all. She wasn't sure how it worked but rewriting an entire biology didn't sound like an easy task.

So she took a deep breath and swallowed. "Do it."

"What?" he whispered, confused.

"The Chameleon Arch."

"Rose—" he started to protest and reached up to touch her cheek. She jerked away from him.

"How many people died today, Doctor?" she demanded. "Forty? Fifty? More 'en that? We can run but if they can track the TARDIS then they'll just keep catchin' up. How many more people can we let die? You…you have to do it."

He was silent for a long minute. "I thought you didn't want to see someone in my body."

"I don't. _God,_ you have no idea how much I don't, but that's why those people died today."

"Don't do that," he ordered. "Don't you blame yourself for this. _Please_, Rose." He tilted her face up and his eyes searched hers. "Are you sure you want me to do this?"

"We don't really have a choice here."

The Doctor sighed. "Alright then. I'll do it."

Tears welled in her eyes and he brushed them away with his thumb before they could really fall. "It'll be okay," he murmured. "It's not forever. Remember, I told you they don't live very long, and if they're pursuing me this viciously then it can only mean that the senior members are running out of time in their natural lifespans Three months should be long enough. That's all. Just three months."

She nodded. "What's going to happen to you?"

"Well..." he took a deep breath. "I've never done this before so I can only tell you what I've heard from other Time Lords or read. The Arch has four functions all linked together. First it establishes a link between my mind and a fob watch—I'll show it to you later—so as it's rewriting my biology it can slowly transfer my consciousness into the watch. They say it's like being asleep. As my consciousness is transferred my basic human persona is created and around that the TARDIS finds me a place in history to fit the persona. Once she does that the finer details are developed. When it's over I'll be unconscious for a few minutes as everything settles and gets adjusted. After that I'll wake up and walk out of the TARDIS. I won't even see you. And you mustn't touch me, speak to me, or make any sort of contact after I wake up or you'll snap me out of it. Just let me leave. I'll come to on my own when I reach a certain distance from the TARDIS."

She nodded again. "Alright. And what about us?"

"The TARDIS can't find a place for you two, I'm afraid. Although—" his eyes twinkled with faint amusement "—I wouldn't be surprised if she chooses somewhere that accommodates you as well. If not, well, I should have enough residual awareness to let you and Martha in."

The possible scenarios raced through her mind. What if the TARDIS made the human man believe they were dating or married? Her stomach rolled at the thought of having to pretend to be in love with the human who looked like the Doctor. Oh, God, what if she actually _did_ fall in love with him? She'd have to choose at the end.

_Please, please, please_, she begged the TARDIS. _Don't make me go through that. _

The distress on her face did not escape his notice. He slid his arms around her again, pulled her close, and rubbed her back. She tucked her head under his chin and pressed her face into his chest, breathing in deeply. They really should move. The sooner he changed the sooner he could comeback. But would be three months before she could have this again and wasn't quite ready to leave his arms.

"Rose, will you do me a favor? Keep the watch with you," he implored. "I… They say I won't really be aware but I think I'll feel better knowing that I'm with you."

"I'll keep you safe," she promised and kissed his chest.

He waited outside her closet as she pulled on a t-shirt and denim capris. When she emerged he had a pair of socks and her trainers ready and waiting. She smiled at him and he sat beside her as she slipped both on. He brushed a bit of hair away from her neck so he could nuzzle it and press a soft kiss just below her ear.

They sat together for a few more minutes just holding each other. He kissed her one final time, slow and tender and heartbreaking and nowhere near enough.

They walked hand in hand back to the infirmary to finish cleaning and healing her wounds. They were surprised to see Martha there as well, dressed in street clothes once more.

She looked up when they entered. "What happened?" she asked.

"Sorry if I worried you," Rose apologized. "I just…" she swallowed.

Martha smiled gently. Once again was struck by the kindness of their friend and her patience. Everything she'd done for them, everything she'd done to help them, and all the times she'd saved them. And now Rose was going to have to ask her for something else, something that might be painful to her, but would undoubtedly be agonizing to Rose. She wasn't strong enough to do it but maybe Martha was.

Of course she was. Martha could save the world on her own if she had to.

Martha motioned for Rose to hop up on the table. She started cleaning Rose's wounds while the Doctor explained what they were going to do. She didn't speak except to ask him to clarify things while silently noting the misery written across every inch of Rose's face. When he was done he asked them to finish up in here and meet him in the console room. As soon as she was sure he was out of earshot, Martha set down the salve and squeezed Rose's hands.

"Hey."

Rose looked up. "I don't want to do this."

"I figured as much. Why are you letting him?"

"I told him to do it. It's…we have to. You saw what happened today. Even if we shake them now they'll find us later. We can't let that happen again." she released a shuddering sigh. "Doesn't mean I have to like it."

She squeezed her hands again. "Well, you won't be alone. No matter where we end up, I've got your back."

Rose smiled. "Good, because I need a huge, _huge _favor. I need you to keep an eye on his human self."

"What do you mean?"

"Stay close to him. Make sure nothing happens to him; that he stays out of trouble."

Martha's eyes narrowed. "And where will you be?"

"Around, but—but I—I _can't_…" she swallowed and shuddered. "I can't watch a stranger parading around in his body. I'll keep the watch safe, you keep the body safe."

Martha stared at her for a long moment then picked up the dermal regenerator and turned it on. She ran it slowly up Rose's arm, lingering over the wounded areas. Under the blue light the broken skin started to knit back together and continued when the light moved on.

"We could end up anywhere in Earth's history. We have no idea what we're getting into and if it were anyone else I'd say no. But as long as I don't have to be a slave or a prostitute to keep near him, then yes. I'll babysit."

Rose smiled. "Thank you, Martha."

After they were finished and Martha took the second half of the medicine to help her body replenish the blood it'd lost quicker than normal, they walked down to the console room together. The Doctor was finishing up something on the console when they walked in.

He turned to face them without his usual enthusiasm and held up a pocket watch. "This is it."

The Doctor held out the watch and they leaned in for a closer look. It was covered in intricate lines and circles that Rose recognized as Gallifreyan. "I'll be inside here. Opening the watch will release my consciousness and I'll return to my body no matter how far apart we are. Plus, the moment you open the watch my scent will escape and they'll be drawn to us like H'varqs to Goot berries. So don't open the watch until its time and if for some reason you have to, no more than a few seconds."

"Okay," said Martha.

"Rose?"

She nodded.

"And these—" he pulled two seemingly ordinary silver bracelets from his pocket "—are your olfactory deceivers. Wear these on your wrists, ankles, with your TARDIS keys, I don't care, just keep these on you at all times. The moment you remove them you're scent will uncloak and I wouldn't be surprised if they have your scents by now."

They both slipped them onto their wrists.

The Doctor flipped a switch on the console and from above they heard something sliding down. A bizarre helmet-like contraption descended from amongst the throng of wires, tubes, and doohickeys high above the console room. It looked like something straight from a mad scientist's lab in a B movie. The mere sight of it filled the three of them with a sense of foreboding.

"The Chameleon Arch."

Martha was not impressed. "That thing? That's what all the fuss is about?"

"Yep."

"That thing can rewrite your entire biology and suck out your consciousness?"

"It's just another feature of the TARDIS." He circled the Arch the way an animal would a sleeping predator. He glanced from Martha to Rose once more before approaching it. He inserted the fob watch into a slot and locked it into place. He held onto it for a few more seconds and then sighed. "She'll do most of the work, but my body has to kick off the process. Rose, can you run down to the infirmary? In the blue drawer, there should be a gray bottle next to a syringe. Bring it here. Martha, I need you to help me with the final sequence."

Rose sprinted out of the console room. The Doctor watched her go with a look of such intense longing that Martha knew without a shadow of a doubt that he'd lied.

"You don't need an injection," she said.

He shook his head.

"Why did you send her away?"

"I don't want her to see this." He pressed a few buttons on the console then turned to the Arch again. He took a deep breath and lifted it onto his head, shifting around until it was situated properly.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry," he told her.

"Rewriting your entire biology—it's going to hurt, isn't it?"

"Oh, yes. Worse than regeneration, they say. I don't know how long this will take and I don't know how long it'll take her to get back but don't let her do anything until it's over. Don't let her touch me, don't let her stop the process, anything."

She nodded.

He smiled. "I'll see you when I wake up. Thank you, Martha Jones."

The Doctor pressed a button on the side of the Arch and closed his eyes.

If she lived for a thousand years, Rose would never forget the moment the sound of the Doctor's screams reached her ears.

She'd just come to the realization that there was no gray bottle in the blue drawer and was about to ask the TARDIS to bring it out for her when she heard him. Then she was racing from the room, her feet pounding against the grating in her flight. His gut-wrenching cries tore at her body like shards of glass. She skidded around corners blindly and realized after two minutes of running that she'd taken a wrong turn but trusted the TARDIS to lead her back to the console room. When she reached a staircase, however, she realized the ship was doing the exact opposite.

"NO!" she screamed, beating her fists against the nearest wall. "DON'T DO THIS TO ME!"

The TARDIS hummed sorrowfully in her mind.

Rose kicked the wall and ran back the way she came, screaming the Doctor's name. Martha must've heard her because when Rose ran into the console room she was already ready for her. Standing firmly between the door and the Doctor, she was able to throw her arms out and catch Rose, using her own momentum to swing her around. Rose fought against her, of course, swiping and jerking around and shrieking and struggling to reach her Doctor.

"Get off me!" she screamed. "DOCTOR!"

"Stop it, Rose!" Martha shouted near her ear. "You can't touch him! He told me not to let you!"

Oh, that bastard. He'd lied to her just to get her out of the console room. He'd _lied_. She hadn't got to tell him goodbye, kiss him one last time, or remind him that she loved him.

Sobbing, Rose continued to struggle for a few more moments, growing weaker and weaker each time until she sagged limply. Martha released her and Rose skittered back until she hit the railing, sliding down to the floor. She pulled her knees to her chest.

The Doctor kept screaming and, oh, God, it was worse than he was possessed by Torajji.

Tears trickled down her cheeks in a steady stream. Martha stood next to her, equally horrified. She stared helplessly at the man she loved as he shrieked in agony until she couldn't bear it anymore and squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her hands over her ears. It might've gone on for hours or only a few minutes. It was impossible to tell. All that she knew was that he was still screaming.

And then he wasn't.

Rose opened her eyes carefully. The Arch was still humming and the man's hands were still holding onto it, but other than that he'd gone completely limp. She lowered her hands from her ears and dared to hope that it was over. The Arch gave one last loud buzz and then tapered off. For a moment everything was silent, even the ever-present hum was almost inaudible.

Then the man in the Arch moaned softly, his hands losing their grip, and he dropped to the floor. The moment she heard the heavy thump Rose snapped into action, pushing herself up and racing over to his side. Martha helped her roll him over onto his back and then Rose sat down and pulled his head into her lap. She caressed his temples and ran her fingers through his hair. She ducked her head and kissed his forehead.

The tears renewed as she realized he looked the same. From his hair to the freckles on his face, this man was exactly the Doctor, but that's where the similarities ended. He was hot, much too hot to be a Time Lord, more like a human with a fever. Placing her hand on the left side of his chest, she felt the steady _tha-thump _of his left heart, but when she moved to the right side she felt absolutely nothing. His right heart had well and truly gone.

When she felt the TARDIS landing, she gripped him tight so he wouldn't be jolted too much, releasing him when they touched down. She couldn't bring herself to move away. This man hadn't done anything wrong and the thought of leaving him while he was in such a vulnerable state was appalling.

She heard a soft rattle followed by a click. A second later Martha was kneeling beside her and she held in her hand the fob watch. Rose accepted it with a grateful smile and gripped it tightly in her right hand.

It might've just been wishful thinking, but she could've sworn she heard a whisper from the watch. _Rose…_

The TARDIS hummed warningly in her mind and she figured that meant he was going to awaken very soon. She brushed her fingers across his forehead once more, kissed his lips, and then lifted his head from her lap, scooting away, and gently set it down on the grating.

Martha helped her to her feet and the two of them stood together, waiting. Thirty seconds of silence passed, and then the man on the floor inhaled deeply. His eyes opened and he got to his feet almost mechanically. He didn't stop to look at his surroundings or stretch his body, he simply walked straight for the door, bending down to pick up a bag by the ramp they hadn't noticed before, and then the man stepped out into the world.

* * *

**AND THAT'S WHY WE WERE LAUGHING AT YOU.**

**Now, I am well aware some of you are very wary about this arc but... come on you guys. _Haven't you learned by now that this is not like other season 3 rewrites? _  
**


	36. Elliot

**Let's play spot Team TARDIS...**

* * *

Sometimes Elliot looked back and wondered how he'd managed to keep up hope for as long as he did. Maybe it was the motivation he received from church or maybe his parents insisting that the treatments would work this time. He'd been battling cancer all his life but he had never occurred to him that there might never be an end to it. Yet no matter how long he was healthy, sooner or later he'd be sick again and he'd be right back in the hospital.

He was a boy. He wanted to do boy things, like riding his bike and going to school and getting in trouble for something silly. He was also one hundred percent a person. Like the grownups just smaller. But they'd forgotten. Or maybe they'd never really thought it to begin with. After all, they'd never asked him what he thought about his cancer and the treatments and spending most of his life in the hospital.

The cancer came back again just before he turned eight. On his birthday they told him he was on the waiting list for some special cancer center in California. He'd looked on a map. California was a bazillion miles away. He wouldn't be able to ride his bike up to Speedway for an Icee, his friends wouldn't be able to visit him, and he wouldn't know anyone there. Plus California was where the movie people lived. He didn't want Magneto to find him.

"I don't want to go there."

"They can help you get better," his mom said.

"We'll be with you the whole time," his father promised.

He continued to protest. He didn't want to go. What didn't they get? It was so far away and…and why could those doctors help when these doctors couldn't? It was his life. He was the one who would get kicked out of his own body by the little cancer monster. Why couldn't he decide for himself?

In the end the stopped trying to convince him this was a good thing, why they couldn't back out, something about money, and barked: "We're going and that's that."

In many ways that was one of the final straws.

They went to California and he underwent treatment. Three months later the cancer was in remission. They went home. A year and a half later, just after his tenth birthday, it came back. That was when he realized that the little cancer monster would never let him go. It wanted him. Was there any point in trying anymore? He'd been sick his whole life and no matter what the doctors did the cancer always came back. Like a little monster eating him inside and growing bigger and bigger until one day it would get too big and shove him out. Then he'd go to heaven and he could ask God why he'd been born this way.

When his parents went through the familiar process of getting him admitted as an inpatient, he told them that he didn't want to have chemo again. _They're going to try something new this time. Don't worry about your hair, sweetheart, it'll grow back when you're better_.

But even if he got better he wouldn't stay that way! It was just going to keep coming back. Couldn't they see there was no point?

Elliot tried running away. The police found him and brought him home the next day but his parents still weren't ready to listen. It was all about them. _We don't want you to die. We love you. We can't lose you. Be brave, please_.

What was the point of speaking if no one would listen?

So he just…stopped.

He wasn't sure what hurt more: that they didn't realize at first or that they tried to persuade him to talk instead of asking him why he'd stopped. Oh but they asked the doctors why. They asked the counselors why. The counselors asked him why and only because it was their job to. He didn't answer.

He had to live in the hospital again. All of his friends from last time were long gone. He thought about writing down his question so he could ask one of the doctors or nurses…but then he decided he didn't want to know. He pretended they were all home with their families, happy and healthy and doing normal boy and girl things.

These new kids didn't know how to be friends with quiet Elliot. Most of them didn't even pay attention to him except for Devin. But Devin paid attention to everyone and not in the nice way. Elliot wasn't sure why Devin was in the hospital but he didn't think it was cancer since he still had hair. He was also the oldest boy in there and he liked to brag about how he'd be moving up to the big kids ward soon. In his mind that made him better than the rest. Elliot wouldn't be sorry to see him go.

Without the company of friends to keep him occupied, Elliot spent a lot of his free time drawing. He's the best artist of them all. Sometimes he draws people, sometimes animals, real and fantasy. The doctors and nurses tell him he'll be an amazing artist when he grows up (and he knows they're thinking 'if he grows up') and that he has real talent. So he doesn't try to play with the other kids or make friends or read books because they won't make any difference once he's dead. He figures the pictures will last longer than he will.

At least once a day Devin would march over to wherever Elliot was drawing and try to get him to talk. Elliot took to drawing something he didn't care for that he could flip to when he saw him coming in preparation for the inevitable moment when Devin would snatch it away and rip it to goad him into talking.

One time one of the others, a tiny girl that kinda looked like she was from China and had a gap between her front teeth approached him. She sat beside him for a while and watched him draw. She said her name was Macy before shyly asking him if he could draw her a unicorn with dark eyes and a blonde mane. He smiled and was just about to nod when Devin stuck his big nose in.

"You retard, he can't hear you. Oh, wait, you're not a retard, you're a blonde. My bad. I couldn't tell until I saw your eyebrows. Or what's left of them anyway."

Macy's hands flew to her head and for a second Elliot saw an image in his mind of Macy not too long ago with long and pretty blonde hair instead of a pink and orange bandanna. Then it was gone and tears were filling her eyes. She ran away from them.

Elliot glared at Devin. He'd never ever felt that angry before and he wanted to take his colored pencils and shove them into every hole in Devin's head.

Devin sneered at him.

That night he waited until the nurses were gone then he snuck over to Macy's bed, tapped her awake, and handed her a picture of a white unicorn with dark eyes and a long yellow mane spilling out from underneath a pink and orange bandanna. She beamed at him and started to thank him but he pressed a finger to his lips. She closed her mouth obediently but she didn't stop grinning and he knew she understood.

Macy didn't make a big deal out of the picture and except on the times she sat by him as he drew, Devin didn't bother her any more than he normally did. No one else was as brave as her, though, so Elliot was alone most of the time. He pretended he didn't mind. Devin still preferred to taunt him more than any of the others, though.

The day he had enough was the day he really met the new doctor in their ward.

The first day he came he introduced himself as Dr. John Smith and all the other children automatically liked him, even Devin. What wasn't to like? Tall, lots of hair on his head, and a nice face, the kind of man you saw in movies. He was funny and he didn't talk down to them. They all loved his accent.

But Elliot felt unsure. He _seemed_ like a normal children's doctor but there was something wrong.

Elliot had this thing he could do. He could tell things about people. Sometimes he saw glimpses of their past, the way he saw Macy's hair. Sometimes he could tell what they were thinking. There was no pattern, no way to control it. It just happened. His friend Curtis called it his 'mojo.'

When he saw glimpses of Dr. Smith it wasn't like the other times. There were no clear pictures, no knowledge that came from nowhere. It was a jumble of blurry, half-formed images. Like his mojo couldn't understand what it was picking up on. It made him nervous and it happened more often with Dr. Smith than anyone else so he made an effort to not be near him longer than he had to.

One afternoon in the playroom about two weeks after Dr. Smith came, Elliot had the urge to draw the night sky. He pulled out the drawing pad with the colorful pages and selected a black one. He got out his pack of special light colored pencils and let his hands go free. Two moons, loads of stars, and other different colored dots that were actually planets in the distance and Elliot knew he wasn't drawing Earth's sky but he didn't care. It was real. He knew it. He could see it in his mind.

Someone around him had seen this sky before somewhere. Somehow.

Then Devin came over to play. Elliot didn't notice him coming until there wasn't time left to flip to a drawing he didn't mind Devin taking. There was nothing he could do as Devin sat down in the chair next to him except keep drawing and pray. But God hadn't listened to all the prayers to make him better. Why should God care about this?

"What's this supposed to be?" Devin asked. "That ain't right. We only got one moon, you retard. Don't you know anything?"

Elliot ignored him and kept working on the largest moon. Dark paper was tricky 'cause you had to color highlights instead of shadows.

"Hey! I'm talkin' to you, mutey. I know you're not really deaf. I know you can hear me. Answer me!"

_Sticks and stones may break my bones…_

"I said answer me, stupid head!"

_But words can never hurt me._

Devin snatched the sketchpad from under his hands. Elliot reached for it automatically. _No, no, no._

"I ain't givin' it back until you answer me." Devin said, holding it out of reach. Elliot pushed his chair back and leaned across the table but Devin snatched it away from his seeking fingers. "You heard me, mutey. Talk or I ain't givin' it."

Would Devin give him back the drawing even if he talked? Was the drawing worth it? Would Devin leave him alone if he talked? Could he even talk anymore? It'd been weeks. What if his voice had gone away forever? Was it even worth trying?

He took too long to think about it.

"Guess you don't want it." Devin said and turned it around. He twisted his lips as he thought about it. "I don't either. It's stupid."

He gripped the edge of the paper and tugged. Instead of coming neatly out of the pad, it tore at the top and diagonally down through the middle and something inside Elliot snapped.

With a strength he didn't know he had, he shoved the table right into Devin's stomach. The other boy let out a startled 'oomph!' and he let go of the paper, but that wasn't good enough. He'd _ripped _it. He'd destroyed it. He was always doing that. Every day. Even if Elliot didn't care about those other drawings they were still getting torn.

Elliot launched himself at Devin and knocked him right out of the chair. Devin was too started to defend himself at first and Elliot didn't give him a chance after. He was aware of the other children screaming, some of them egging him on, _cheering_, and adults shouting but it was nothing but noise. Devin was crying but he didn't stop. He just hitting him in the face over and over with his fists and raking his nails across his skin.

Some distant part of his mind warned him that this would only get him in trouble but Elliot didn't care. It wasn't fair! He hadn't wanted leukemia, he hadn't wanted his parents to ignore him, he didn't want to feel alone, and he hadn't wanted to lose his friends or have to share secret smiles with those he still had. Some of it was Devin's fault, most of it wasn't. But he was there now and it easier to blame him for all of it.

A pair of hands grabbed him under his arms and lifted him into the air like he weighed nothing. He screamed wordlessly, voice rough and hoarse from disuse, and kicked and thrashed at the person holding him. They adjusted their grip, holding him with their arms wrapped around his midsection.

"That's enough!"

Elliot saw a blurred face with brown hair in his mind and realized Dr. Smith was holding him off the floor. Tears rolled down Elliot's cheeks and he continued to kick and thrash as Dr. Smith carried him out of the playroom. He saw other adults bending down to fuss over Devin and the other kids staring at him in awe. And his sketchpad and pencils left forgotten on the table.

He may have beaten Devin, but Devin had still won. Elliot hadn't said words but he'd still let him hear his voice.

Dr. Smith set him down on his bed and knelt in front him. Elliot continued to cry while Dr. Smith looked him up and down critically. He didn't seem too angry and that made no kind of sense. But, then, Dr. Smith didn't really make much sense himself.

"We've never had a chance to talk before now. You're always drawing. Elliot Hunter, right?" he asked.

Elliot reached up to wipe his eyes. Dr. Smith waited and Elliot realized he wasn't going to let him get away without answering. Except, he wasn't asking him to talk. He wasn't yelling or blaming him or threatening to rip things up. He just wanted a response.

So Elliot nodded.

"You know, Elliot…the other children have told me about Devin Jacobs. They say he's a bully. They say he tries to goad you into talking."

Elliot nodded, not meeting his eyes.

"Macy Clearwater says he rips up your drawings sometimes. You drew her a unicorn and she hides it from Devin."

He nodded and wiped his nose.

Dr. Smith sighed heavily. "Elliot, I understand you were angry with him, but violence is not the answer. You might've heard the whole spiel before, and I know it's overdone, but it's true. Two wrongs don't make a right. Like—oh, I know—ever seen the original Star Wars movie?"

Elliot nodded. _Duh._

"Remember when the _Millennium Falcon_ is being sucked into the Death Star, Han is trying to fight -Wan Kenobi told him—hang on, let me see if I can do this." He cleared his throat and attempted an American accent as he said, "'There are alternatives to fighting.'"

Elliot sniffed but he couldn't help the grin tugging at his lips. He really couldn't speak American.

"Not exactly the same circumstances but the point still stands. Violence might seem like the easiest way to deal with your problems, but it also is the easiest way to add to your problems. Alright?"

He nodded once more and groaned internally at the typical adult response.

"Good lad." Dr. Smith patted his knee again and stood up. "Unfortunately, I'm going to have to call your parents about this. You're to stay on this bed until I say otherwise. I'm not cross with you, Elliot," he added quietly. "Bullies have a way of bringing out the worst in us."

There was old pain in his voice and it prompted Elliot to look up and meet his gaze.

_Three boys were in an alleyway. The younger version of Dr. Smith and another boy shorter than he with black hair were backed up against the wall while the third boy taunted them ruthlessly. He seemed to be targeting the smaller one…_

…_and they were somewhere new now and the bully was throwing small stones at the little boy and John snapped and he threw himself at the bully and started beating him down… _

Elliot inhaled sharply. That hadn't been like the others. It was warped, yes, like it wasn't exactly right, but something about it rang true. His mojo said something was wrong with Dr. Smith but he could be trusted.

Maybe he would listen.

His parents certainly wouldn't.

When they arrived they chewed him out and told him that violence was wrong and he hadn't handled it well and something about money and insurance and punishments and Elliot really didn't care. It didn't matter that Devin had started it. He was the one in trouble because he'd defended himself. They ended it with how very disappointed he was and that he had to apologize to Devin.

He reached for his sketchpad and pencils but his father had snatched them away. "No. You will apologize out loud so he can hear you."

Elliot looked at the floor and no amount of orders or bribes could get him to look back up. They were threatening to move him to another ward and away from all his friends (_Macy!_ he thought in despair) when Dr. Smith stepped in.

"If I may, Mr. and Mrs. Hunter," he began. "I don't think we've been properly introduced, my name is Dr. John Smith. I've spoken to the children before and a lot of them say that Devin has been causing a lot of problems. Sorry Mrs. Jacobs," he added to the woman sitting with Devin. She raised her eyebrows. "But they also say he tries to goad Elliot into talking on a daily basis. That he rips up his drawings when he doesn't."

"Devin!" Mrs. Jacobs exclaimed. "Have you really?"

"No!" Devin lied.

Dr. Smith folded his arms. "One of my med students asked the children if they saw what happened. Several of the said they saw you rip up the drawing he'd been working on for hours. May I?" he held his hand out for the sketchpad. Elliot's father handed it over and Dr. Smith flipped through it until he located the torn black paper that had been stuffed in carelessly. "Well, here we are, then."

Devin smashed his lips together furiously and now it was his turn to look away.

"Today's incident seems to be the accumulation of several weeks worth of frustrations. Now, I'm not condoning Elliot's actions, but perhaps you shouldn't be so harsh on him. And perhaps forcing him to talk isn't the best course of action."

"Well then what do you suggest?" Mrs. Hunter asked.

Dr. Smith looked between the two boys. "Devin, are you sorry for being mean to Elliot and tearing up his drawings?"

Devin glared up at him.

"Devin?"

"Yes," he bit out.

"Uh huh. Now say it like you mean it."

Devin took a deep breath and let it out. "I'm sorry."

"And do you promise to stop being mean and tearing up his drawings?"

"…Yes."

"Good. Elliot, are you sorry for hitting him?"

_No! I'll never be sorry! He deserved it!_ Elliot nodded.

"And do you promise never to do it again?"

He nodded.

Dr. Smith smiled. "There we are, then. There's nothing more we can do. There's no point in putting Elliot in a separate ward. His friends are here and Devin will soon be moved to an adolescent ward, anyway. If nobody has a problem with this, I think we're done here."

Elliot stared at him and only just managed to not gawk.

The next day Dr. Smith returned his sketchpad and pencils. Elliot was stunned. He'd assumed he was going to get them back and he'd been preparing to steal notebook paper and pens. Dr. Smith smiled at him, winked once, and then left. He sat there, completely stunned, for about a minute then flipped through the pages until he came to the one Devin had ripped.

It was fixed.

No, not fixed, he could still see the rip. He checked the back and saw three strips of tape placed neatly along the tear. No bends or crinkles.

Something on the brown page below it caught his eye.

_Elliot,_

_Sorry for using one of your pages up. I just thought you should know that you are a brilliant artist. It takes a special kind of talent to draw something like that without any reference at all. You should finish it._

_And don't worry I didn't browse._

It was from Dr. Smith, it had to be. It looked like doctor handwriting—all messy and wobbly like a first grader's.

Elliot smiled, pulled the light blue pencil out of the box and carefully resumed where he'd left off.

Hours later he was still working on it in the playroom. Macy, emboldened by yesterday's events, came over and plopped down in the seat next to him. Her eyes flitted across the paper, taking in all the details, including the tear.

"This is the one Devin ripped," she said. It wasn't a question. "You're really good, you know, and Devin isn't. He's jealous you can draw and he can't. That's what I think."

_Maybe._ But if that's the reason, then why did he want to make Elliot talk?

"But it's good you finally got mad at him. Maybe he'll leave you alone now."

_Maybe. _

"Do you…do you mind if I sit and watch you draw?" she asked. "I won't touch your pencils or nothing. I'll even stop talking if you want me to."

_Yeah right._ He grinned down at the paper and nodded.

She scooted her chair closer, leaning her arms on the table and resting her chin in her hands. They sat in companionable silence for a long time while he put the finishing touches on his picture. Macy didn't try to tell him the sky was wrong or there was no way there could be two moons in the sky. She didn't compliment him or tell him he was doing good. She was just silent and as much as he appreciated her consideration, he thought it was strange to not hear her chatter.

So when he was done, he set down the white pencil and picked up a regular one, flipped to the next unused sheet and wrote. _You don't have to be quiet._

Macy raised her eyebrows and a smile spread across her face. And it was a good smile; the kind in movies you saw after the day was saved. Because except for an occasional head movement or gesture, this was the first time he'd actually communicated with her since he gave her the unicorn and told her to keep quiet. It made her seem older than he'd thought she was.

He pointed to himself then held up ten fingers.

She stared at him for a moment. "You're ten?" He nodded. "I thought you were like twelve or something."

He shook his head and grinned. She giggled. "You look funny when you do that. Oh, no! I meant that in a good way. I've never seen you smile like that."

No, she hadn't. He'd been afraid to do anything to attract Devin's notice. He didn't really believe Devin would leave him alone from here on out but maybe things wouldn't be as bad. Maybe he could have a real friend again.

"I'm nine."

He nodded and for lack of anything better to respond with, he gave her a thumbs up.

Macy tilted her head to the side and studied him inquisitively. "How come you don't talk, Elliot?"

He stared at her.

"You're not sick in your throat and I heard you scream yesterday so I know you _can_ talk, you just choose not to. So how come?"

Elliot looked down at the paper, deciding if he should ignore her question or answer it and how to explain if he did. He gripped the pencil tightly.

_Because no one ever listens when I do._ he wrote.

"I'd listen." Macy said. In his mind he saw him and Macy sitting at the table from behind, leaning over his sketchpad. He blinked in surprise and looked behind them. Dr. Lewis, a blonde woman who always smiled at them no matter what kind of day she was having, was standing in the doorway looking around the room. She noticed him looking and waved.

He looked back at the sketchpad with the image still fresh in his mind, flipped to a white page, and started to draw it. Macy leaned closer to watch. It didn't take her long to realize what he was drawing.

"That's us."

He continued working for the remainder of their time in the playroom and Macy stayed with him. He was putting on the finishing touches when the nurses told them it was time for dinner. The image he'd drawn was an almost exact replica of the scene in his head, now faded, except for the other children in the background. Macy was amazed.

Every day for the following week Macy sat with him during playtime. Sometimes she was content to just watch him; sometimes she brought toys to play with or a book to read. He didn't mind. He knew it had to be hard for her to be his friend when he barely responded to anything she said. Her company was enough.

Dr. Smith came around a few times and paused to watch him work. He never stayed long and he usually didn't speak other than to say hello.

Devin usually glared at them from across the playroom but he only ever came over once. Macy quickly put a stop to that, folding her arms and shooting daggers at him from her eyes. "You got a problem, buttwipe?" she asked loudly. "'Cause you come any closer and you're definitely gonna."

Elliot didn't look up to see Devin's response but he didn't bother them so he figured that was good enough. He hadn't realized the courage his fight with Devin had given her.

One time she got the idea to make things for him to draw. She'd gather toys and objects from around the room and set up a scene on the table, which he then proceeded to draw. Other times he'd wait until she was preoccupied with her own entertainment and then he'd sketch her. These would always make her grin and blush and pull her bandanna down over her face.

It was the best week he'd had in a long time.

At the end of it, Macy was late to the playroom. She'd had an appointment during lunchtime so he wasn't too surprised. When she finally arrived he was prepared to show her the picture he'd just finished. She sat down next to him as she usually did and he pulled himself out of the zone so he could focus on her when she started talking. He waited, and waited, and waited. After a few minutes he looked up to make sure she hadn't died or something and caught her staring at him. There were tears in her eyes.

His mind immediately jumped to the worst possible conclusion. _Oh no, no, no. It's not working, is it? The chemo isn't working and you're getting worse and—_

"Calm down," she ordered.

He realized he was breathing quickly and he swallowed. Taking a deep breath, he exhaled slowly and tried to calm his racing heart.

Macy sniffed and looked down at the paper. "So, what are you drawing?" she asked, trying and failing to sound cheery. "Is that supposed to be a dog or a fox? I've always wanted a pet fox, they look so fluffy and their tails are so bushy…"

Elliot stared at her for a moment and then flipped the page and started to write. He almost never did this, preferring to use facial expressions and gestures to communicate Macy understood, even seemed to enjoy the charades. But this was serious.

_Are you going to die?_

Her eyes widened and she laughed. He gawked at her for a good thirty seconds before she finally calmed down, shaking her head. "No. I'm going to live. I'm going home today."

Elliot stared at her, completely full of emotions—shock, fear, sadness, joy, hope, and the beginnings of loneliness—and he couldn't settle for just one. If she was going home then that meant her treatments were over and her cancer was going away or even gone. And that was good. Great. Awesome. Maybe she'd be lucky and it wouldn't ever come back. He hoped so. The cancer monster shouldn't have her. God shouldn't be that unkind. Her blonde hair would grow back and she'd get rid of her bandannas (or maybe she'd still wear them as a reminder) and she'd go to school and do normal girl things and grow up and get married and get a job and have babies and…and…

But she'd be leaving him behind.

"I knew I might be leaving soon. I didn't want to tell you earlier," she went on. "I was afraid you wouldn't want to be my friend 'cause I was leaving."

His mouth moved but even now he couldn't bring himself to break his silence. Instead he looked back down at his sketchpad. It was easier to not respond and simply look away.

"But the…the doctor said my cancer is nearly gone. I beat it, Elliot. I beat it." There was such pride in her voice that he had to look up at her and smile. There were tears in his eyes but he didn't care. He leaned over and hugged her tightly. She hugged him back.

Macy sniffled "I'll come visit you," she promised. "And when you're better you can come over to my house and we can play on the swings if you want and I'll get chalk and we can draw on the driveway."

He smiled. That was good. Something he could look forward to after he was out and to occupy his time until he was back in. He could introduce her to his other friends and Macy would help them understand.

He drew back and flipped the pages in his sketchbook until he reached the one he'd drawn of the two of them at the table days before. He carefully tore it out and scrawled their names on the bottom so she'd never forget him even after the cancer monster finally got him. She accepted it with like it was something precious then leaned forward and kissed his cheek.

"Macy!" a woman called from the doorway. She looked a lot like Macy, except her skin was darker and she looked like she was from China.

_She's going to leave me_, he thought in a sudden panic.

Macy glanced at her then back to Elliot. "Mom wants us to go eat lunch together. I'll see you in a little bit, okay?"

He nodded and forced himself to smile. She hugged him one last time then she hopped out of her chair and ran over to her mother. He watched them leave and stared at the door for a long time after. When he finally turned back to his sketchpad he realized there were tearstains on the paper.

He felt like he might be sick. He closed his sketchpad, gathered up his pencils, and returned to the ward without telling anyone. It was almost worse going back to the room. There was a blonde man that seemed familiar, though he was sure he'd never seen him before, by Macy's bed, putting her things into a box. Elliot stared at him.

The man became aware that he was being watched and turned around. He raised his eyebrows at Elliot's piercing look. "Hello there, son," he greeted.

Elliot blinked.

"I'm just packing my daughter's things."

Macy's father, he realized. No wonder her looked familiar. And that shade of blonde was identical to Macy's whenever his mojo showed him what she looked like before. So that was why Macy looked like she did. Not quite Chinese, not quite white; she was mixed.

Macy's father was packing her stuff. She really was leaving.

Elliot's lip trembled. He didn't want to watch but he didn't feel like going back to the playroom. If he went anywhere else on the floor he'd be found and made to return to the playroom. If he went to another floor then he could get in big trouble. Plus there'd been that one woman and her daughter who hadn't understood leukemia and thought it was contagious. They'd treated him like he had that plague he learned about in school. He wasn't eager to repeat the experience.

Macy's father was beginning to seem uncomfortable under his stare. "Are…you okay? Do you need me to call a nurse?"

He shook his head and walked over to his bed. He put his paper and pencils in their place then climbed into bed, pulling the covers over his head. He spent the next ten minutes listening to Macy's father pack her stuff away.

Elliot didn't go to dinner. He wasn't hungry.

Macy came back after that with the other children, several of which where talking to her. He pushed the covers down, sat up, and waited to be noticed. It didn't take long. She saw him out of the corner of her eye, finished her conversation, and made her way over to him. She plopped onto his bed unceremoniously and smiled weakly at him.

"You kinda scared my dad earlier. But it's all right; I told him you were nice."

Elliot almost smiled.

"I'm leaving in a few minutes. Mom and Dad are doing the paperwork. …But I'll see you real soon. Promise."

He nodded, reaching for his paper and a pencil.

_I'll miss you_, he wrote.

"I'll miss you, too." she said and hugged him tight.

From the other side of the room, three voices broke out in song. "Macy and Elliot sittin' in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!"

Elliot recoiled away from her, cheeks flaming, and Macy twisted around to glare at them.

The rest of the room joined in. "First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes Macy with the baby carriage!"

"Shuddup!" she hollered while they all cackled. Shaking her head disdainfully, she turned away and hugged Elliot again. "…Unless, y'know, you wanna get married," she whispered. "But I think you'll have to ask my dad first."

Elliot's shoulders shook with silent laughter.

The following morning when he returned from getting his chemo, Macy's bed had been stripped and he could smell bleach in the air. They'd gone and removed all proof she'd ever been there in the first place and soon a new kid would come and sleep in her bed.

He had to remind himself that it was a good thing she was gone.

Around lunchtime Dr. Smith came in and found him lying in bed. They stared at each other in silence for a few moments and then he left without a word. The other children came back a while after. None of them said anything to him. None of them ever did without Macy around.

At dinner time Miss James, one of the student Doctors, a black woman with an accent like Dr. Smith's, came to get him. "Time for dinner, Elliot," she said.

She'd been one of Macy's doctors. He swallowed and didn't look her in the eye for the rest of the time she was there. She tried to get him to get up to eat but he wasn't hungry. Eventually she left.

The next day he didn't feel like going to the playroom so he sat alone on his bed in the empty ward and doodled aimlessly on a black piece of paper with a black pencil. His counselor would have fun trying to figure out what this means. She was always browsing his sketchpads as if it held the secrets to his mind, not caring that he didn't want her to.

He heard someone come in but he didn't bother to look. If they wanted his attention they'd get it. But no one ever came to talk to him at this time of day. So he was quite surprised when he felt someone sit down on his bed.

Dr. Smith, his mojo warned.

"You're friend Macy went home a few days ago. I talked to Dr. Lewis about her. She said Macy's cancer was nearly entirely gone."

_I know._

"And Miss James says you haven't been eating. That's not good, Elliot." Dr. Smith sighed heavily. "I understand you miss her, but this is not the way to handle your grief. Macy wouldn't want you to go hungry."

_I guess._

"I noticed you've been drawing a lot of strange things lately: creatures from other worlds, strange skies, and stars. I, uh, well—I have something I'd like to share with you, if you don't mind. I think you might like it."

Elliot looked up curiously. This was new. Dr. Smith held an ordinary deep blue composition notebook in his hands. The corner of his mouth twitched. "Promise you won't think I'm barking?"

Elliot blinked.

He tried again. "Promise you won't think I'm insane?"

_Oh._ Elliot nodded and traced an X on his chest.

Dr. Smith laughed. "Good enough. I have these dreams where I'm an alien and I travel through time and space. They've been happening frequently I've started to write them down here to keep track. I was thinking about moving them to a proper journal. I find it frustrating trying to draw with all these lines in the background. Would you like to hear some?"

Elliot nodded.

"Alright." He picked up a brown bag from the floor and handed it to Elliot. "I'll read to you if you eat what I've brought."

Elliot looked in the bag. A sandwich, an apple, milk, and a chocolate chip cookie. His stomach rumbled loudly and Dr. Smith chuckled. Elliot pulled out the sandwich and unwrapped it. PB&J. Yum. Lunch for a story, seemed like a fair trade. He took a bite of it, glancing up at Dr. Smith.

He nodded, opening the journal to page one, and began to read. "My name is the Doctor…"

* * *

**So who did you find? :D **

**Review! Reviews make the world go round and if the world stops spinning we all die. So think about that. **


	37. In Hiding

**Because of all the rage today about the DW 50th trailer at Comic Con _that's not being released to the public_, y'all are getting this week's chapter early. **

**The most popular answers from Spot Team TARDIS: **

**John - Doctor (Correct, obv)  
Miss James - Martha ****(Correct)**  
Dr. Lewis - Rose (WRONG) 

* * *

She still couldn't get over his name.

She didn't understand why the TARDIS, who had invented him an entire life story and had the capabilities to make that story entirely credible, couldn't come up with a proper name. John Smith was so inconspicuous that it actually _was _conspicuous. Or at least it was when they were lying. But John Smith was a credible, trusted, and frankly magnificent doctor. Why would anyone question him?

His occupation had also been something of a shock. He was a pediatrician, of all things. She thought it might've been the TARDIS's way of having a laugh. The Doctor was good with children so his human counterpart was a children's doctor.

All things considering, she thought the TARDIS had chosen a pretty good place for them to wait the three months out. America in the year 2003: modern enough for her and Martha to be comfortable and far enough for them to be safe from Torchwood. They were completely active in this time period but they were on the other side of the Atlantic. Thinking back on it, she was almost positive their jurisdiction didn't extend to America. So unless the Men in Black were real, there were no other alien-related agencies in America, unless you counted UNIT (which she didn't) but they were allies of the Doctor and were unlikely to take advantage of his vulnerable state. She hoped.

Bridgeton, Kentucky was nothing like London. It was difficult at first and she and Martha spent the first week trying to find their feet. Most of the people had strange drawls, somewhere between the standard American accent and the deep Southern accent the people had when she and the Doctor visited 1949 Georgia.

Rose was jarred from her thoughts by the phone ringing and her hand snatched up the receiver before it could even finish. "Good afternoon, Riverview Hospital, how may I direct your call?" she recited.

The woman on the line launched into a long rant about what was wrong with her and Rose tried to follow along as best she could before politely informing the woman that she was only a receptionist and couldn't provide her with medical help but, if she would like to hold on a minute, she would transfer her to someone who could.

Placing her hand over the microphone and whispered to Natalie, "This woman says she has a hernia and needs to make an appointment with someone."

"Dr. Pearson's clinic, gastrology, extension 3452," Natalie responded without looking away from her screen.

"You're a saint."

"That's what they tell me."

Rose dialed in the extension then hung the phone up and went back to her computer.

It was not her dream job, being a receptionist at a hospital main desk, but it beat working in the gift shop, cafeteria, or as a janitor. She worked reasonable hours and she always had a partner working the desk with her. Depending on their shifts, it was either Aiden or Natalie. Both were very welcoming and had been excited to have a fresh face added in the mix.

On her first day she'd been scheduled to work with Natalie. She was somewhere in her late forties with a brown pixie cut and style of makeup that made her look quite severe. Rose Tyler, time traveller, intergalactic hero, the Bad Wolf, the guardian of the Doctor mind, the Stuff of Legends, was immediately intimidated. She decided on the spot to try and work her voice into an Estuary accent so the woman wouldn't immediately label her a chav. Turns out she needn't have worried.

Natalie heard her speak, raised her eyebrows, and said, "I'm only gonna ask this once is your British accent real or are you just faking it?"

Rose very nearly laughed with relief and realized the woman probably wouldn't know Cockney from Northern. After all, she apparently hadn't been as well educated in American accents as she thought. She should've realized it would've been the same for Americans and the variety of English accents.

So when she responded she slipped right back into her natural accent and said, "No 's real."

Natalie's features relaxed into a smile. "Well, then, hello Rose Taylor. It's nice to meet you. Have you clocked in yet?"

The job wasn't perfect and she wasn't the worlds best receptionist, but it was manageable, her coworkers were decent, and as long as she worked at this desk there was little chance of John Smith seeing her, or vice versa. All in all, she had it pretty well.

Martha was working as a med student from the UK finishing her residency under the name Martha James. It was either luck or the "residual awareness" the Doctor had mentioned but Martha's attending physician just so happened to be John Smith. Things couldn't have gone better if they'd planned it. Not only was Martha getting more medical experience but also got to be near him almost every day for hours on end.

While Rose, on the other hand, didn't have to be. That in itself was a blessing to her fragile heart. Plus, as an added bonus, John's shift wasn't usually over until she'd already gone home for the day and on the rare occasions when it was, he never stopped at the desk to chat. He didn't even know she existed and it was better that way. If his residual knowledge of Martha was enough to make him accept her and treat her as a friend, then what would it say about Rose? She wasn't sure she wanted to know.

"You know," Natalie said, startling Rose back into the present. "I'll never understand how you move so fast. I don't think I've heard the phone ring more than once in a row since you've started working here."

Rose smiled sheepishly. Years with the Doctor had given her amazing reflexes. Answering a telephone quickly was easy and unless she was in the middle of something, she didn't see the point in making the person on the other line wait any longer than they had to.

"Just good reflexes. Reckon I'd be good at football if I tried."

Natalie eyed her. "Petite little thing like you? They'd trample you."

"I'm not that small." Rose sniffed. "Plenty of women are smaller than me."

"But there's no women's football league."

"Yes there—oh, wait. By football I meant…er, football. No hands, kick the ball into a goal, goalies."

"Soccer," Natalie said. "Or, in Spanish, American football."

Natalie had taken it upon herself to teach Rose Spanish. She had no way of knowing that everything she said was being run through a telepathic filter inside Rose's head and translated into English. Usually that was how it worked—the TARDIS would identify the primary language of their time and location and would translate words in the second before they were spoken so they came out in that tongue. But the Doctor had taught her how to inform the TARDIS she wanted to be heard speaking a specific language even to those who would not understand. She could've gotten a job in the hospital as a translator but she ran the risk of running into John or there was always the chance she'd forget to get the TARDIS's attention and she'd go in and everyone would hear their native language. Martha had agreed it wasn't a good idea.

But she couldn't explain any of that to Natalie so she let the older woman try to educate her in a language that only 5% of the Bridgeton population spoke.

That was just how Natalie was. She had a keen memory for facts, statistics, and the most random information. She memorized things, stored them away, and shared them when it suited her. For example, in the past few weeks, Rose had inadvertently learned that Bridgeton had one hundred and fifty thousand people, four townships, two hospitals, one museum, two bike trails, ten parks, eight swimming pools, and sixteen fire stations. It didn't annoy Rose so much as it overwhelmed her. The Doctor could talk for England but he was content with receiving noncommittal responses most of the time. Natalie made her ramblings into a conversation in which she expected the other person(s) to participate.

At the same time, she was very much a mama bear. She seemed to view Rose as a young girl who was far from home and mourning her love and, therefore, needed guidance and protection. Not coddling, mind. She didn't let Rose slack off but at the same time she was lenient if Rose zoned out as she was stroking the fob watch, since it had been _his_. She expected Rose to be on her 'A game' when working and she helped her stay there by doing things like telling her the extension to a gastrology clinic on the third floor.

The other person she usually worked with was Aiden. He was younger than Natalie, somewhere near twenty-six if she had to guess, unmarried, pretty, with a headful of ginger hair that he probably spent fifteen minutes on in the morning. His personality wasn't too shabby, either, very light and funny. Definitely her type and if her affections weren't elsewhere, she'd probably be interested.

He'd definitely been interested in her at the beginning. It wasn't worth starting anything with him even if she could bring herself to. So she and Martha had come up with another part of their backstories. Rose's boyfriend of nearly three years had passed away recently and when her friend Martha told her she was moving to the USA, she decided to come with her for a fresh start. Martha said it would give Rose a little leniency with her behavior and if Aiden were any sort of decent, it would ward him off.

He'd seemed decent but she'd still been worried he wouldn't take no for an answer and she'd have to put up with his advances for three months or risk losing her job. Thankfully, once he heard her story, he backed off, offering his shoulder if she ever needed it, platonic dates if she needed a night out, and to take over the desk if she needed a moment. She planned on taking him up on at least one of the three.

He'd also realized that she knew next to nothing about living in America and started correcting her speech.

Cash point: atm.  
Ten past eight: eight-ten.  
Crisps: chips.  
Chips: fries.  
Biscuits: cookies.  
The cinema: movies or the movie theater.  
Chemist: drug store.  
Petrol: gas.  
Trousers: pants.

And that was just from the first week. By the end of the first month they'd gone through changing word spellings (like colour to color) for when she had to write things down for people, where famous monuments were, and he was trying to teach her how to speak with the local accent. That last one wasn't going anywhere fast.

"You're pronouncing things wrong. You have to say each word and draw out your vowels," he said. "Stop biting them off."

"I don't pronounce anythin' wrong!" she shot back. "_You_ lot pronounce things wrong."

"Well, around here, this is how things are said."

"And back home, this is how things are said." she folded her arms.

"Come on, Rosie, try again. It's not that hard."

She arched her eyebrow. "Right then, if it's so easy, talk like me. G'on."

He ended up sounding like a Northerner with something stuck in his throat. So she'd told him if he planned on teaching her any more, first he had to work on speaking like her. She told him once she was satisfied he could walk around her old neighborhood without getting weird looks every time he opened his mouth, he could try teaching her to talk like a Kentuckian again. She figured that would spare her for a few weeks.

Or drive her spare in a few weeks.

The next shift they worked together, he greeted her with a hearty, "Top o' the mornin' to, ye!"

She stopped dead with her hand halfway to the time clock then turned her head slowly. "That's—that's Irish," she said after a moment.

"Damn."

The afternoon shift ended at six pm. At five 'til, the two working the evening shift arrived to take over and Rose and Natalie walked back to the staff room together. As they collected their things and clocked out, Natalie asked if she had anything planned for the evening.

"Martha's not on call tonight so we're probably going to go to the cine—the movies," she amended quickly.

She nodded. "Sounds fun. What are you going to see?"

"I think _Bruce Almighty._ I hear it's hilarious." She knew for a fact that it was, as she'd seen it when it was first released in Britain, but she couldn't tell Natalie that.

"I haven't seen it yet but I'm going to. Even if the plot is bad—which I doubt—it's starring Jim Carrey. Mmm-mmm." She smiled wickedly and placed her card into the slot on the top of the clock.

Rose's mouth split into a disbelieving grin.

"Oh, come on, you have to admit he's good looking."

"Well…"

"Oh, stop."

Rose slipped her card into the slot, waited for the clicking to finish, then withdrew it. She checked to make sure the information was accurate then returned her card to its appropriate slot. "He's alright, yeah, but he kind of creeps me out sometimes. Just some of the faces he makes and the way his eyes and teeth works. He looks like an upright Kortar."

"A what?" Natalie asked.

Rose froze, eyes widening, and was thankful Natalie couldn't see her face. She was so careful to not let things like that slip, but Natalie had become dear to her in the last few weeks, filling a small part of the void left behind by her mother's absence. She was still debating on telling her who she really was once this was all over, but not yet. Not like this.

"It's, uh, this monster thing from a show I used to watch, long time ago. But it was weird looking."

Natalie smiled, satisfied by her answer, and gave her a hug. "Well, enjoy the movie. I'll see you Thursday."

Rose bid her goodbye and fled the hospital, feeling the same conflicting emotions she always did. On the one hand she was glad to be away from John Smith but on the other, she didn't want to be far away if he needed her. But it wasn't like she was abandoning the Doctor.

Rose kept the watch with her at all times, in a pocket when she had one in her outfit and in her purse when she didn't. It was strangely comforting to have it near and she took it as a sign that he really was in there though she dared not open it to be sure. Not that she doubted him. But having the watch close by did very little to satisfy the craving she had for his presence. The occasional whispers she caught from the watch—usually her name but one time she heard _love_—were no substitute for the sound of his voice.

She missed his smile, his laugh, his scent; the way his arms felt around her, the way his chest felt underneath her cheek, and his lips felt as they kissed. She missed hearing him talk endlessly; she missed the sweet silences between them. She missed watching telly with him. She missed the running. She missed falling asleep to his heartsbeat and soft humming, she missed waking up to his smile. She missed holding his hand.

She missed _him_.

Sometimes it became too much and she had to see him. She'd simply text Martha, 'Where?' and wait for her to reply before excusing herself to the bathroom or the break room, and went in search of him. Martha never questioned it, never tried to stop her.

They helped, those brief glimpses she had of him. Always from a distance though and never long enough that he'd risk seeing her. She'd watch him converse with patients, visitors, and staff and her heart would ache every time he smiled. Sometimes she was able to hear the familiar timbre of his voice. She could pretend in those moments that it really was him. But almost always he'd do something—a certain expression or gesture that would scream _not the Doctor_ and she'd run before she saw another.

For simplicity's sake, she and Martha shared a two-bedroom flat. Theirs was located two blocks from the complex John lived in. The TARDIS was located near the hospital, only about a mile away. They could go to and from work quickly, stopping at the TARDIS if they had to, and they were close to John if anything happened. The TARDIS was alert enough to keep tabs on them all and had agreed to warn Rose if he was in danger. Anything else, though, had to be learned from Martha.

There was nothing from the TARDIS now, just a faint hum in the back of Rose's mind to let her know the ship still lived and hadn't abandoned her and Martha.

Since Martha had to work longer hours and through the night the times when she was on call, Rose did a large portion of the work around the flat, though Martha was always sure to do her chores. The mornings after Martha was on call, Rose was always sure to have something waiting in the microwave or fridge to be heated up so she could eat before collapsing in to bed. They hung out together when their schedules permitted. Martha would talk about her patients or what John Smith was up to. Sometimes they'd go to the cinema or go for runs to keep in shape. They visited the TARDIS every few days to keep her company.

Rose used the hour alone in the flat to change into casual clothes, do the dishes, call to order pizza, and check the show times for _Bruce Almighty_ . The pizza arrived fifteen minutes before Martha did. When Martha walked in, she set her bag on the table and immediately dropped onto the couch. Rose looked up from her laptop in surprise. She set it aside, opened the pizza box, tore off two slices and set them on a plate then handed it to Martha.

"Rough day?" she asked. Martha sat up and accepted the plate. She bit into the first slice like she hadn't eaten for days.

Martha nodded.

"I'm all ears."

She made a face and swallowed. "Well, Patrick Kaiser went in for his kidney transplant today but his body rejected it immediately. There was a mix up somewhere along the line and part of his information got swapped with somebody else's entered that day. So someone, somewhere, is probably gonna go through the same thing. And I had to explain that to his family. Thank God I don't have to worry about all the paperwork." She took another bite of pizza and chewed slowly. "Tell you what though, I feel sorry for the poor fella who made the mix up because you can bet his job will be gone if they ever figure out exactly who did it. Probably his medical license, too, if he has one."

"Accidents happen," Rose mused.

Martha quirked an eyebrow. "Most accidents don't cost thousands of dollars, hours of paperwork, and at least one healthy kidney."

"True." She looked down at the pizza contemplatively. She'd already had two slices but she was still hungry. She'd been telling herself that she'd go make a small salad for the past ten minutes but that didn't seem to be happening. Sod it. She tore another piece off and took a bite.

"Iris Rooter came back today."

"Wasn't she the one who broke her leg on a scooter?" That one had been pretty easy to remember. Rooter. Scooter.

"Yep. I told her no more scooters until _after _her leg had fully healed."

"What did she do?"

"Hopped on a scooter, wrecked it, and broke her femur. It was so bad they had to operate to set it. So now her tibia _and _her femur are broken. That girl isn't gonna be walking for a long, long time and even then…" Martha's mouth puckered. "She's probably gonna be permanently crippled. I don't understand. Did she not hear me? Did she think she wouldn't get hurt?"

"She's fourteen. You can't tell me you didn't do something stupid when you were fourteen."

"Not that stupid. I never disobeyed doctors," she added. "Anyway, let's see, what else? Summer Winters had her baby today."

Rose snorted. "I can't believe she didn't keep her maiden name. I would if my married name would be a pun. Like Rose Bush."

"Winters is her maiden name, actually. Her married name is Hopper. …She says her parents were hippies," she added.

"That explains so much."

They both burst out laughing and Martha choked on her pizza. Rose thumped her on the back to help it go down. Martha wheezed, still laughing, and rubbed her chest. "It does," she panted, "it really does."

"So what'd they name the kid?"

"Anna."

She nodded. "What else?"

"I told you one of the pediatric patients I worked with went home the other day—Macy Clearwater?"

Rose nodded again.

"Well, there's a kid in her ward called Elliot. He's one of the boys that got in that fight two weeks ago. I don't know much about him other than that he's got leukemia and he is mute. He's not deaf and the cancer isn't in his throat, he just chooses not to talk. None of the other children really connect with him so Macy was his only friend. He's not handling her departure well. He won't eat. He won't leave his bed except for the loo and chemo." She took another bite of the pizza and chewed slowly. "I can't do much since he's not one of mine but I told John about it. He's been keeping an eye on Elliot since the fight."

Rose froze mid-chew for a second then continued. Swallowing, she asked, "What did he say?"

"He said he'd talk to him today. I didn't get a chance to ask him how it went."

"The Doctor could help him," Rose said.

"I think John can, too. They're not completely different, Rose. You see him as this complete stranger but he's…."

Rose looked away. She shifted her leg and felt the familiar weight of the fob watch in her pocket.

"And, uh, I'm not exactly sure how to tell you this, but… Has he always had sideburns?"

"Yeah, ever since he regenerated. He was quite fascinated with them."

"Yeah, well, John shaved them off."

Rose blinked, looked up, and blinked again. "What?"

"He shaved his sideburns off."

"He didn't."

One corner of her mouth twisted upwards. "He did. It's really weird."

Rose put her forehead in her hand and sighed. She didn't like the thought that John was changing his body when it wasn't really his to change. Though, all things considered, the lack of sideburns was nothing. They'd grow back sooner or later. "Thank God he didn't wake up this morning and decide he wanted a tattoo."

"Oh, no, he's getting a tattoo this weekend. He told me."

Her head snapped up. "He _what_?!" she shrieked. "Oh my God, the Doctor is going to flip when he wakes up and finds out. Please tell me he's not gettin' it on his—oh. Martha! That's not funny!"

Martha's lip twitched and then she was roaring with laughter. The plate slipped off her knees and she leaned back against the couch, holding her stomach. Rose glared at her.

* * *

**Now, as WhoinWhoville said, it's time to play the Who's Gonna Get Killed by the Family Game! (Guys, don't actually send me names of who you think is getting offed. You haven't even met everyone yet.) **

**WSITW passed 800 reviews the other day. Yaaaaaaaaayyyy! :D :D :D**

Hey, if we can get to 1000 reviews before chapter 50, I _might_ have a little side-story surprise for you guys that takes place in one of those "in-between" chapters. 


	38. Journals and Sketchpads

**So if you missed the announcement: Peter Capaldi is the 12th Doctor. And if you think he looks familiar, that's 'cos he was in Doctor Who. Season 4: The Fires of Pompeii.**

**...The same episode the title of this story came from, as a matter of fact. o.o **

* * *

The first dreams had been a week apart and he'd hardly given them a second thought. But then they started occurring every few days. That was when he began to write them down. Now they were happening almost every night and he was sure to record every detail he could remember when he awoke. On the occasions he awoke in the middle of the night, he would roll over and reach for his journal, which he kept on his nightstand, and scribble things down furiously, occasionally sketching things when he felt like had to.

After that first day, it became a routine for John to bring his notebook with him to work. It was difficult to tell what Elliot was thinking but the little boy seemed to enjoy hearing all about his mad dreams. He should probably be making a visit to third floor and reading his journal to a psychiatrist but instead he was reading them to a cancer patient on the fifth. At least Elliot couldn't label him a loony and get him fired.

He saw a lot of himself in Elliot. Even though the boy had been very unfriendly to him when he first arrived, after learning more about him from the other children, he'd felt he had to help him after the fight with Devin. It was heartening to see him then befriend Macy Clearwater and then heartbreaking to see him quickly descend into depression upon her departure.

Elliot was doing better now that John spent time reading to him. Yesterday he told him about the Doctor's travelling companion: a beautiful woman named Rose. She had blonde hair and brown eyes, she was small enough that her head tucked right under his chin, but tall enough for him to easily kiss—no, tall enough for _the Doctor _to easily kiss. When it came to Rose, it was especially important to make that distinction. What he felt for her was just apart of his dreams. The Doctor loved her. He did not. She and the Doctor were dreams. He was not.

Violet was not either.

He shook his head quickly. Best to not go down that road. Really. Besides, it was always advised that one never date a coworker. The awkwardness that could ensue if the relationship doesn't work out aside, it's not healthy for both members to be _constantly _around each other. Especially in his line of work. He couldn't allow himself to distracted from the people who relied on him. Even if the distraction was a pretty woman with blonde hair and brown eyes.

_Stop it._

After lunch, he stopped at his locker to grab his notebook then headed to the playroom where Elliot and the others in his ward would be. He was waiting for him at the table where he normally sat, drawing away as usual. The boy had a promising career ahead of him as an artist if he beat leukemia.

As if sensing his approach, Elliot raised his head and looked right at him with piercing eyes that knew far too much for one so young. If he were honest, John would admit that Elliot could make him feel uneasy. The way he stared at him sometimes, like John was a puzzle he was solving, but couldn't find where all the pieces went. And the way he had a knack for drawing things exactly John had pictured them.

After the first day, Elliot started drawing scenes from what John read to him and they were exact in almost every detail. There had to be a logical explanation for it, of course. The kid liked science fiction. Perhaps they were each taking inspiration from the same show. He would show him rudimentary doodles of the creatures and things in his journal, Elliot would look long and hard at the images, and the next day present him his renditions, which were always far better than John's. He drew a Dalek so perfectly that John was almost afraid of it.

Elliot didn't wait for John to ask, immediately flipping back to the drawings he'd made since yesterday. John shifted around in the child-sized seat until he was relatively comfortable, then leaned forward to look. He should've expected it. Really, he should've. After all, she'd played a big role yesterday, but seeing her there on the paper before him made his breath catch. _Rose._

Her hair fell like a curtain over her shoulders and she had a rose tucked near her right temple. She smiled up at him like she knew something he didn't. She was beautiful.

The next page was her again, but unlike the other one, it was in full color. She stood in the doorway of the Doctor's blue box, a gold light streaming out, surrounding her. Her eyes glowed dangerously and a ball of light seemed to be building in the palm of her raised hand.

Elliot tapped the words scrawled beneath the picture with his finger.

_Bad Wolf_

John gave his head a quick shake. "Quite. You really are good at coloring, Elliot. How did you get her to glow?"

As usual, Elliot didn't answer. He flipped to the next page. Three Daleks standing between two panels with the light from the blue box hitting them head on. He knew what was happening here. The Doctor was in the floor just a few feet away, between them and Rose, and was just as horrified as they were. He'd sent her away to save her while he stayed behind to defeat the Daleks and ultimately perish himself. But she'd come back for him as a creature of time itself. She'd saved him.

Rose was always coming back to him. The Doctor never could understand why.

Elliot flipped one final time and the Daleks were dissolving into dust.

John forced himself to swallow past the sudden lump in his throat and smile. "Brilliantly done."

Elliot smiled.

"Ready to hear more? Today's little…adventure takes place a while after that last one. At least a year, I'd wager." This was nothing unusual. John's dreams jumped around all the time. The Doctor had been alive for nearly a millennia and John never quite knew what point of his life would feature next.

"They've got someone new with them. I don't know her name yet, I'm afraid, or what she really looks like. I never saw her face. But she's shorter than Rose by a few inches, she's got dark skin, and black hair that she likes to wear up."

He nodded.

"I don't know how she met the Doctor and Rose, either, they didn't say, but from the way they acted I reckon she's been around a little while. They're right here in modern America, too. A town called Blackwood Falls up in New England. How about that? They're having an adventure in America for once, even though it…happens to be the part of the country with 'England' attached to it."

Elliot rolled his eyes. Two days ago he'd interrupted the story to hold up a sign that read in big, blocky letters: _**WHY IS IT ALWAYS ENGLAND?**_

John chuckled. "And the best part? It's Halloween. Free candy! But it's not all fun and games afraid—but, _really_, when is it?"

Elliot smiled and leaned onto the table to listen. The bad guys were the remnants of an ancient alien species called Hervoken. They were very tall with thin bodies, extremely long hands, and enormous heads like jack-o-lanterns, and they were the enemies of a species called the Carrionites and they had been at war many eons ago. One lone Hervoken ship escaped while rest of their species were banished to the darkness. They lay dormant in the earth for a long, long time, until the ship was repaired in the early 21st century and they planned to repower the ship using the inhabitants themselves.

Like any normal dream, the tale was disjointed, with pieces missing and events happening out of order—and since John wrote things down in the order in which they happened in his dream, he often had to mark his place and read something from later before going back—and it was never from anyone else's point of view. He'd recently purchased a journal that he planned to copy all the stories into soon in the order he dreamt them—although he'd rearrange them so all those events were read in the right order. He was also in the process of creating a timeline of these stories so there would be some way to determine chronological order later on.

When John was finished reading, he shut the journal, and set it down on the table to wait for Elliot to finish drawing. His eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, the tip of his tongue poking out between his lips, and his arm jerked around randomly as he guided the pencil across the paper. John wondered what had captured his interest enough to prompt an early start. He leaned forward to have a look.

Elliot's hand froze and he lifted his head, glaring at him pointedly, and waited until John retreated before going back to work.

John let his eyes drift across the room. The other children weren't paying the two of them any mind having long since grown accustomed to him. They probably liked having him there, too, since his presence tended to prevent trouble, with the exception of the occasional 'I was playing with that!' arguments. The monitors usually resolved those without his help though he did like to throw stern looks at the troublesome kids to back them up.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up and he suddenly knew he was being watched. He glanced around the room but saw no one staring so he turned towards the door. He figured it was a woman from the height and build and the shoulder-length blonde hair, but she darted away before he could get a good look at her face. Frowning, he started to get up, but then Dr. Violet Lewis walked into the room. For a second he thought it might've been her in the doorway but he realized that wasn't true. Violet's hair was more of a sandy blonde than bleached and a few inches longer than the other woman's.

She saw him looking and smiled warmly at him. His heart beat just a little bit faster and he smiled back.

He felt something prod his arm. He looked down at Elliot just as he tapped him again with the end of his pencil. Seeing he had his attention, he set the pencil down and held up his sketchpad for inspection. John recognized the creature immediately as one of the Hervoken. He raised his eyebrows but found he really wasn't surprised at the accuracy, not after the drawings of Rose earlier. He was still reeling from it.

John smiled. "Spot on."

Elliot's mouth twisted as if to say _of course. _

"Now, second order of business, I've purchased a journal to copy these into. Leather bound, sturdy paper, with a lock. I'm going to start copy everything into it soon, but I'm going to need pictures. Interested?"

His eyes lit up like it was Christmas morning and he nodded vigorously, holding up his sketchpad.

"No, no. You keep that. The pages won't fit so what I'll do is, while I'm writing, I'll leave empty spaces on the page for new drawings to be added in. Sound good?"

Elliot nodded again.

"I'll bring the journal in as soon as I start working on it. You can read it and fill in the spaces how you want. I hope you can draw small."

Elliot's mind was buzzing after Dr. Smith left to go about the rest of his day. He would be on call tonight so that meant no new dreams tomorrow. That gave Elliot plenty of time to look and decide what he wanted to put in the journal. His eyes widened as something occurred to him. _I was just asked to illustrate a book!_

He couldn't wait to tell Macy when she came to visit.

But how was he supposed to know what to do? It wasn't like just drawing in a sketchpad. The pictures had to tell the story just as much as the words did. There were even some books that didn't have words at all. He glanced at the bookshelf across the room. Plenty of picture books over there, maybe they could give him an idea of what to do.

Pushing his chair back from the table, he hurried over to the bookshelf, carefully avoiding the other kids and the toys littering the floor. He took a moment to scan the titles and then started grabbing some picture books he recognized and then a few small novels. Two kids stopped what they were doing and stared at him. He ignored them and struggled to balance the stack of books in his arms. He decided twelve was enough to be getting along with for the moment and he carefully made his way back to the table. The thud as the stack hit the table attracted the attention of a few more kids.

Still paying them no mind, he sat back down and picked up the first book, _The Pokey Little Puppy, _and started to read.

In Elliot's mind there'd always been three types of things worth reading: picture books, novels, and comics. Comics and novels were at opposite ends of the spectrum—one using only pictures and the other using only words—with picture books occupying the space in between. But picture books were mostly for babies so they could get used to words and pictures.

As he slowly made his way through the pile of books, he came to the decision that Dr. Smith's journal should be more like a novel than a normal picture book. He was very good at describing things with words and adding in too many pictures would be redundant and a waste of space. Plus, anyone who read it would have to be older than the age group that normal picture books were aimed at. The irony of that didn't escape Elliot since he was still in that age group.

One of the _Bearenstine Bears _books he was reading gave him a really good idea. One of the pictures, instead of a scene, was just of a particular object that was being talked about that page. On another page there was just a picture of the new character being introduced.

Elliot reached over and grabbed his sketchbook. He flipped through the pages until he reached the stuff he'd drawn from Dr. Smith's journal and then slowly made his way through them. He hadn't really thought about it before, but he hadn't drawn very many scenes. It was mostly just pictures of the separate people, places, and things that his mojo had picked up on.

And that was another thing.

He frowned as he thought about it again. Whenever he listened to Dr. Smith read, certain images would just appear in his mind the same way memories and images did from other people. Like the dreams were _memories_. But that was impossible because that would mean the doctor was…well, _the Doctor_!But he couldn't be.

Dr. Smith was a strange man and everything Elliot picked up on from him was warped and murky, except for the things from his dreams. The exact opposite of how it was for everyone else…. But Dr. Smith was human! You couldn't just switch species like that! Well, some vampires and werewolves could, but that was venom and magic and blood and stuff. An alien couldn't become a human.

Still, it'd be cool though.

But even though the dreams were like normal memories, about half of them were incomplete. Like some things were cut off or the details were blurry or missing altogether. After several hours of frustration the first time, he decided to not bother with those incomplete drawings.

There'd been one today: the nameless woman with Rose and the Doctor. He'd seen her like she was standing right in front of him, arms folded, hair pulled up, with a red leather jacket. Her head was there and he knew what shape it was but her face had been missing. Well, not missing, exactly, it'd been there, but it'd been like trying to pick out the details of a penny at the bottom of a dirty pond. Even now, focusing as hard as he was, he couldn't make her face clear up.

"Okay, everyone!" He recognized the voice Miss James, the British student doctor, but didn't look up. "Everyone needs to put their toys and books away now."

It was nagging at him. It felt like her face should obvious but he just couldn't see it. Gritting his teeth in frustration, he shut the sketchbook and resolved to try drawing her later. Maybe that would give her face time to clear up.

He carried the books back over to the shelf and one of the girls helped him put them away. He didn't know her name. She'd never told it to him.

The next morning he wasn't scheduled for anything so he sat on his bed and continued to work on his drawing of the nameless woman. He was nearly done but she still remained faceless. He'd even gone into very intense detail with the shading to give his brain more time to work on clearing her face up but it _just wouldn't make sense._

Dr. Smith came by to check on him before he went home but Elliot didn't show him the sketch of the woman. Instead he flipped to one of the pages he used to write on and informed him that he had lots of ideas for the journal.

John read and reread the sentence three times before smiling at the boy. "Good to hear. Tell me all about them on Thursday. I need to get back to my flat before I drop."

Elliot's eyes widened and gestured towards the door and John laughed. "Don't worry, I've got another hour left in me, I think." He repeated the gesture. "Alright, I'm going. Have a good day, Elliot!"

Elliot gave him a quick thumbs up and, laughing, John headed for the lockers.

He didn't run into Violet on the way like he'd hoped but he did nearly knock Martha James over as she was exiting the women's locker room. She was far more alert than he was and she caught him by his upper arms. She released him, her hands hovering a few inches away until she was sure he wasn't going to topple over, and smiled at him.

Martha was a bit of an enigma. She was from London like he was and they both arrived around the same time. That in itself was strange. What were the odds two Londoners would move to the _exact _same town and both get jobs in its hospital? There was this feeling in the back of his mind that he knew her and she acted like they were old friends sometimes but she agreed that they'd never met before now. They hadn't even come from the same part of London or attended the same medical school or worked in the same hospital before now. But when he'd first met her she'd looked, well, alone and scared but she'd done a good job of hiding it. For some reason he simply couldn't explain, he'd felt like he should take her on as one of his charges.

The way her eyes had lit up was almost enough to make it worth it.

She seemed rather fond of him. Part of him wondered if she fancied him but the more logical part of him argued that there was no real sign of that. If anything it was just that enjoyed the company of someone who understood what it was like to be a foreigner in a country that was so similar to her own and yet glaringly different. Someone who knew how to appreciate a cup of tea, and longed for a nice plate of fish n' chips that didn't come from the local Long John Silver's, and didn't know the difference between the NFL and AFL. Or why a victory in the NFL merited shotguns being fired off in celebration.

But sometimes she stared at him when she thought he wasn't looking. Like she was waiting for something that never happened. Sometimes she just seemed utterly shocked at things he said and did. Things that, in his mind, at least, weren't out of the ordinary. Like his hair, he didn't style it or anything, and she found it utterly bizarre. The day he'd arrived after shaving off his sideburns she'd looked scandalized. Just yesterday he was at lunch and one of his students offered him a pear. He hadn't known she was watching him until he took a bite, nodded, and she dropped her water bottle.

Martha was strange all right, but it was nothing her skills didn't make up for. She was a smart young woman and she knew her stuff. The way she responded to situations seemed to indicate she also had a lot of experience. Far more than her peers at the same level. It was more than a difference in curriculums. She said things with confidence like she was used to her judgments being accurate and was sure this one would be as well, whereas her peers were just a bit hesitant, thinking they might be right but their lack of experience made them question themselves. Yet she wasn't arrogant and she took instruction well, particularly from him.

"Easy, doctor," she cautioned. "We can't have you falling over."

And that was another thing. Normally she'd call him John or Mr. Smith like all the others but once in a while she called him 'doctor' like it was his name. It always threw him off.

"I'm alright," he said.

She looked him up and down critically. "No you're not. You really look like you're about to fall over."

"Just a long night. I'll be fine."

She nodded. "And how's Elliot?"

"Good. He's—he's doing good. He's a bit busy with a project he agreed to help me with."

"Wouldn't have anything to do with what's in that notebook, would it?"

John smiled. "I'm moving it all into a journal. Elliot's agreed to do the art for it. He has remarkable skill. He draws the things I come up with better than I can."

"Well, if your art skills are anything like your penmanship skills, that doesn't surprise me."

"Oi!"

Martha grinned. "Get outta here, Mr. Smith. Go sleep."

John didn't own a car. He'd never found it necessary in London and certainly didn't here. Bridgeton had it's own small bus system that he could rely on if he didn't feel like walking the three miles between his flat and the hospital. His conversation with Martha had almost caused him to miss the bus but he managed to fly across the street to the bus stop before it departed.

He sank into one of the seats at the front of the bus and leaned his head against the window. The familiar shuddering of the bus as it cruised along was relaxing and he had to force his eyes to stay open. When he saw his building coming up, he pulled the cord and picked up his jacket off the seat beside him.

"Good night," the driver said knowingly as John passed him on his way out. John chuckled.

He pulled his keys out of his pocket as he trudged up the stairs to his flat. The first floor was silent except for snatches of the radio he could hear through the doors. On the second floor, he could clearly hear _The Price is Right_ theme song coming through the door to apartment 2A, and in 2B the two kids were shrieking at their telly. Today it was something about clues. The third floor was completely silent since his neighbor worked during the day and the dog never barked.

John smiled as he let himself into his flat. Everything was normal.

Deciding to forgo a quick meal, he set his stuff down in his room and immediately changed into his pajamas. He pulled the blue notebook from his bag and placed it on his bedside table next to the pen. He shut the curtains against the midmorning sunlight then collapsed gratefully into bed. He was asleep within minutes.

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***hums Wonderpets song* Yeah I know it's short. Sorry. But the next chapter is longer! **


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